Giddyup Horse & Rider Training

03/04/2026

03/04/2026

If I can do it!
GUESS WHAT?
So can you!
Consistency pays off!
Don't drag your feet!
Get out there and make it happen!
I don't have any fancy equipment. I have an old 1952 Ford 8n tractor with a drag that gets the job done.
I don't have any fancy rig, but it gets the job done! We get there and home safe!
I don't make excuses, I just get up every day and make what I have work! We all put our pants on the same way! 1 leg at a time!
I haven't been able to use my arena in weeks, but I'm still out there finding other ways to work my horses!
BUT what I do have is consistency!
I have horses that go out there and give me everything they've got!
I have horses that push me to trust them!
I have horses that push me to be a better rider and trainer!
I have the strength to keep going even when it feels like it's all gonna fall apart!
So if I can do it. Trust me you can too!!
Just keep showing up! Not for everyone else, but for you!!
Keep being consistent and get excited over even the smallest victory!
In the end dragging your feet never works and faking it until you make it is only going to get you so far!

Reposted FB

Pic , Senorita , TB mare

17/03/2026

Respect for space.
When I talk about respect for space, I’m not trying to win an argument about dominance or prove I’m the “boss.” I’m talking about something far more practical: a horse cannot be the one making the decisions. Not because the horse is “bad,” and not because the horse is plotting against you—but because a thousand-pound animal making independent decisions in a human world is how people get hurt.

I’ve spent my life around horses, and I’ll tell you the truth as plainly as I can: a horse making the decisions is dangerous for the rider. It’s dangerous in the obvious ways—spooking, bolting, running over you—but it’s also dangerous in the subtle ways people excuse for years until something finally happens. The little decisions become bigger decisions. The small boundary becomes no boundary. Then one day the horse makes a decision at the wrong time, and it turns into a wreck.

So when I ask for a horse to respect my space, what I’m really doing is asking for one essential thing: let me be the leader. Not the bully. Not the dictator. The leader.

Because leadership is how the relationship works. Leadership is what makes the partnership safe. And safety is what allows both the rider and the horse to get what they want out of the relationship.

The Horse Doesn’t Get to Decide Where My Body Goes

Here’s the simplest way I can put it: if a horse can move my feet, that horse is already in charge.

A lot of people don’t realize that’s what’s happening. They call it “he’s just being friendly” or “she’s just a little pushy.” But in the horse’s world, movement equals control. If the horse crowds you and you step away, the horse just learned something. If the horse drags you to the gate and you go with him, he learned something. If the horse leans into you at the mounting block and you adjust to make it work, he learned something.

None of this is evil. It’s just horses being horses.

But if the horse is allowed to make those decisions on the ground, it becomes very likely that the horse will try to make decisions under saddle too—especially when the horse gets worried, excited, tired, frustrated, or distracted. And that’s when it gets dangerous.

So I don’t treat “respect for space” as a manners issue. I treat it as a leadership issue.

A Horse Making Decisions Looks Like This

Most folks think a horse “making decisions” is a big dramatic thing like bolting or bucking.

But the truth is, it starts long before that. It looks like:

stepping into you when you stop

pushing the shoulder into you when you lead

swinging the hip into you when you’re trying to move around them

walking past you instead of with you

drifting into your bubble while you saddle

crowding you at the mounting block

turning their head and leaving you mentally, even if their feet are still standing there

Those are all decisions. They’re small, but they’re real.

And here’s why they matter: a horse that believes it can decide where to put its body will eventually decide where to put its body when it counts. That might be into you, over you, away from you, or through you.

I’m not willing to gamble on that.

Leadership Isn’t About Being Mean—It’s About Taking Responsibility

This is where people get confused, because they hear “leader” and they picture somebody roughing a horse up to prove a point.

That’s not leadership. That’s insecurity.

Leadership is simple: I take responsibility for the decisions so the horse doesn’t have to.

A horse is always looking for someone to answer a question: “Where should I be? What should I do? Is this safe? Are we okay?” If I don’t answer those questions, the horse will. Not because the horse is disrespectful, but because the horse is wired to survive.

And the horse’s survival decisions don’t always match what keeps the rider safe.

A horse’s decision might be: “I’m leaving.”
A horse’s decision might be: “I’m running through this pressure.”
A horse’s decision might be: “I’m going back to the barn.”
A horse’s decision might be: “I’m crowding into you because I feel better close.”

All of those decisions make sense to a horse. None of them are what I want happening with my feet on the ground or my seat in the saddle.

So my job isn’t to punish the horse for being a horse. My job is to show the horse a better system:

You don’t have to make the decisions. I will. And if you follow my leadership, you’ll end up safer and more comfortable than you would on your own.

That’s what a partnership actually is.

Partnership Means Both Sides Get What They Want

A lot of people say they want a partnership, but what they really mean is they want the horse to cooperate while the horse is still in charge.

That’s not partnership. That’s negotiation.

Real partnership looks like this:

The rider gets safety, control, and reliability.

The horse gets clarity, fairness, and relief from having to guess.

That’s the deal.

When I’m consistent about space, what I’m really building is a horse that trusts leadership. Because a horse that trusts leadership will stop feeling like it has to manage everything.

And that changes everything under saddle.

A horse that is allowed to manage you on the ground often becomes a horse that tries to manage the ride: it chooses the speed, the direction, the distance from the gate, the amount of effort, the level of focus. It decides how much it wants to give. It decides when it wants to quit. It decides when it wants to argue.

That’s not a partnership. That’s a horse running the relationship.

A horse can’t run the relationship safely. The horse doesn’t have the same goals as you do. The horse doesn’t have the same understanding of risk. The horse doesn’t think like a human. And the horse should not have to.

“Respect for Space” Is Just the First Leadership Test

I like to keep it simple. Respect for space is the first place I check whether the horse accepts leadership.

If the horse won’t respect space, it’s usually not a training problem yet. It’s a leadership problem.

Because space is the easiest thing in the world to understand: “Don’t walk into me. Don’t push through me. Yield when I ask.”

If a horse can’t do that calmly and consistently, then I already know what I’m going to get later when the questions get harder.

And I’m not saying that to be dramatic. I’m saying it because I’ve watched the pattern a thousand times.

The horse that crowds on the ground becomes the horse that leans on the bridle.

The horse that drags you to the gate becomes the horse that sucks back to the barn.

The horse that won’t yield the shoulder becomes the horse that falls in on circles and ignores leg.

The horse that walks through you becomes the horse that walks through pressure.

It’s the same mindset—just different settings.

What It Looks Like When the Rider Is the Leader

When the rider is truly the leader, you can see it without anybody having to announce it.

It looks like:

The horse stays out of your space unless invited closer.

The horse matches your pace when you lead.

The horse yields the shoulder and hip when asked.

The horse stops when you stop and doesn’t step into you.

The horse waits at the mounting block instead of crawling into your lap.

The horse stays mentally with you, not scanning for its own plan.

And the horse doesn’t do those things because it’s afraid. It does them because it understands the system.

The horse understands: “If I follow this person, my life makes sense.”

That’s what leadership creates—a world that makes sense.

The Rider Being the Leader Doesn’t Mean the Horse Has No Opinion

This matters, because someone always hears “leader” and thinks it means the horse gets treated like a robot.

No.

A horse can have feelings. A horse can be unsure. A horse can be fresh. A horse can be opinionated.

But the horse doesn’t get to turn those feelings into decisions that put the rider at risk.

That’s the line.

I want the horse to be able to express itself within the relationship—without taking control of the relationship.

That’s why I correct space issues. Not because I hate the horse being close. But because I refuse to let closeness become control.

The Big Takeaway

If your horse is crowding you, pushing into you, leaning on you, or moving your feet around, I don’t want you to label your horse as “disrespectful” and get angry.

I want you to label it accurately:

Your horse is making decisions that you should be making.

And any time the horse is making those decisions, your risk goes up—on the ground and in the saddle.

So the goal isn’t dominance. The goal is leadership.

Leadership gives the rider what they want: safety, control, and progress.

Leadership gives the horse what it wants: clarity, fairness, and the comfort of not having to guess.

That’s how you build a partnership that works for both sides—because the rider leads, and the horse follows with confidence.

10/12/2025

Meet Floki
An awesome standard bred gelding

05/09/2025

I’m not a gifted rider. I ride with my stirrups too short and my feet shoved home in the stirrups. When things get happening, my elbows start flopping like I’m free-styling the Chicken Dance!

I know enough to see that I am a fair-to-middlin’ rider who has plugged away at the same old stuff for a long enough time, she is starting to figure things out.

What I do, that a lot of people miss, is I see things.

Now, I have never thought that seeing things is a gift, beyond the gift of eyesight, as in the usual five senses. But by ‘seeing things’, I’m saying that I have learned to pay attention and see things that are either bothering the horse, or that he is telling us in that split second before anything more notable happens.

If my horse is turning his head sharply to look at something, I'll be turning my head to look, too. It always looks unnatural to me, the sheer number of photos where horse and rider aren't focused on the same thing.

But when we notice, it’s a bit like seeing the future, if you will, except that there is no fortune teller’s tent, no crystal ball. We're just paying attention.

A lot of us aren’t doing this when we’re around our horses. Heck, a lot of us are driving our cars while we’re texting and scrolling Instagram. I know this because probably half the people I meet on our country highway are resolutely looking down at their laps, when we meet. I don’t know about you but it bothers me when a guy driving a fully loaded transport truck doesn’t notice that I’m also on the road.

We’re hurtling towards each other with a combined speed of 200 kph and one of us is driving blind.

Horsemanship is a lot like that guy driving the truck with his eyes averted. We’re kind of half-invested and the other half is hoping it’s not our day for a 'random' wreck.

How many of you have been run over while leading a horse that suddenly shied and mowed you down? What were you looking at, or paying attention to, that you missed that the horse had raised his head, or put his ears up toward that uninteresting area of the shrubbery?

What made you miss noticing that he was bothered, or on high alert, about something over there? Failing to see that the Boss Hoss is now on the other side of your more submissive horse, when you're leading in from the herd is a real big no-no that people miss.

If I see this, I’ll promptly move over so that I am between the distracting thing/herd bully and my worried horse. This is twofold: I am getting myself out of harm’s way by refusing to act as a human plug to his escape route… AND I am showing him that I have his back. That I have noticed there’s a problem and I’m prepared to protect him.

Same thing with a horse who suddenly jumps ahead, with his head up. I’m not pulling him up, asking, “What the heck’s the matter with you?!” No, I’m turned around, eyes scanning to see what’s going on with my dog. Nine times out of ten, the dog has goosed the horse when my back was turned. The horse appreciates us minding our dog, rather than scolding him without reason.

What about the fellow who just pulled back when he was tied? Did you not see that as you were getting ready to tie him, he grew concerned and imperceptibly, his energy started to shrink backwards? If you’d noticed, you could help him out by guiding him to think forwardly again, before you tied him up. This, whether we are tying, cross-tying, or using a blocker tie ring.

See the horse, feel the horse, before mooring him like a boat.

It’s the same thing with the one who doesn’t want to stand still for mounting. Whether I’m using a mounting block, or having to climb up from the ground, if he doesn’t stand for me, he is telling me he doesn’t want me to get on yet. I’ll believe him! If he doesn’t want me up there, I probably don’t want to be up there, either.

I’ll be figuring out why he doesn’t stand still. Has he said that he needs more warming up from the ground? I’m not proud; if he’s got a minute’s worth of buck in him, I’m absolutely okay with giving him a minute on the lunge line. Or has he said that he’s not been ridden in quite a while? Is he too fat, to the point of being uncomfortable and his saddle isn’t setting him right? Is the back end of his saddle tipped up because he's hu**ed up? That's something I'm going to want to notice.

Maybe, he’s telling me that nobody has ever bothered with showing him how to stand still for mounting and he doesn’t know that there’s any other way.

I’ll watch. I’ll pay attention. I’ll see if I can help him with any of these things, before we ride off.

The horse who is unresponsive about giving of his feet… Did you pay attention to which of his legs is supporting his weight? If you moved him a step forward or back, would you be making this a no-brainer? Did you see that he’s standing with all his weight on the foot you’re trying to pick up, because his other knee is swollen with arthritis?

You say he’s better for the farrier, than he is for you? Well, have you watched closely enough to see where your farrier leans, or touches to ask for the feet, that causes your horse to respond so well? If not, then why not?

We can learn to see really well from those people who make their living by working with and observing other peoples’ horses… and staying alive while doing it.

The biggest tip off, to me, that I'm with inexperienced horse people is their failure to see what's going on around them. It's not their equitation that first gets my notice, or their studied techniques. It's that they grow self-absorbed, inward, rather than constantly reading the room.

I never chat to the folks around me, without keeping my eye on my horse’s eye… and often, their horses’ eyes, too. It’s an easy matter of turning slightly to include my horse in the conversation. That way, I can see when he raises his head and looks off at the tractor moving slowly along the horizon.

As long as he is watching that faraway tractor, he has literally checked out of Dodge. He is no longer thinking about what I’m thinking about and I notice that.

I see that it’s not a problem right now, but that it might well be, in a moment. I don’t mind that he’s interested in his surroundings but now, if he reacts to something that suddenly jerks him back to the here and now, I’ve had a warning.

Do you see that horse getting tight, getting shorter from front to back, for no apparent reason? He’s bothered by something and he’s telling you. That ear he’s cocked out the left side? He’s watching you while you step down and he’s thinking about whether that’s an issue for him, or not.

If it is, he’s going to shy out, jump ahead, or kick at you, while you dismount. He’s being fair about it and he’s letting you know, so that you’re not blind-sided. A lot of horses are telling us that they have a problem with ‘changing eyes’ on whatever it is that we’re doing. We’d be smart to notice that and to pay attention.

Seeing is actually step one of asking, “How can I help you?” Seeing is caring.

I can see when a horse isn’t going to pick up the canter transition, or if he has no intention of reining back. I don’t need to kick him harder, or start pulling on the reins in desperation, because I could see beforehand that he wasn’t into it.

I can usually see the horse who is going to stop at the jump, from about three strides back. I can see the one who has no intention of getting onto the trailer because he has given us signs that this was what he was planning, long before he got to the door. I can see the horse who is going to kick the horse following too closely behind him, before he actually does. I can warn that rider, I can circle back, or I can just yield his haunches to the outside wall. Thing is, so can you!

I’ll watch people saddling a horse who is clearly telling them that he has a problem with girthing. They’ll continue on without so much as a fare-thee-well, ignoring the horse’s dirty looks and pinned ears. What are they needing the horse to say and do?! He’s practically shouting that they’re pushing ahead with something that isn’t okay with him. It’s up to them to figure out what it is, what they’re going to do about it to help him with that… or not.

I don’t know about you, but I want to help my horses be happy. I want to help them do good work and to live good lives. Sometimes, I just have to tell a cinchy horse that he doesn’t need to be that way, any more. That what was once necessary in his life just isn’t, any more.

Seeing is believing. Seeing is a gift, perhaps, but I happen to think it is just another skill that can be learned, if one wants it.

Now, you don’t always have to do anything when the horse tells you a clue as to what he is thinking but if you’re wise, you will pay attention, so that he doesn’t have to tell you any louder.

You will learn to not only see what is really going on with your own horses but also, with the horses around you. I’m not usually all that surprised when I am riding in a group and suddenly, everyone is on a bronc and people are getting bucked off, left right and centre.

I’m not surprised because I ‘read the room’ within the group. I could see that some already jangly horses were nearing threshold when those last two really green horses joined us. I could see that the energy was shifting like storm clouds. Therefore, I could feel it, too.

I could see that there was going to be some excitement happen when that other guy on the working cowhorse decided to fine tune his sliding stops and turnarounds. Because to these already alert horses, that advanced horse running and skidding must surely be frightened! They don’t know yet that sand being kicked against the boards is just an everyday part of western performance.

So, I can see that a group explosion is brewing, long before the arena manager suddenly throws open the big overhead door at the scary end.

I can see this but what can I do? I can get my horse’s attention, as best I can. I can move his feet in a well-known and comforting pattern. I can stay clear of the most worried of the horses, or the most oblivious of the riders, so that my horse has some time to watch and react to me, before they all blow.

It’s one of the reasons why I won’t be riding while listening to tunes on my ear buds. My ability to hear has a lot to do with how well I can see.

I will say that the wrecks I have had generally came about because I wasn’t paying attention. I ignored a sign (or multiples signs!) the horse was giving me, or I was out of tune with what was going on around me. I maybe wasn’t aware of an equipment malfunction… but each time, I wasn’t seeing what I needed to see.

We don’t need to be scared. We don’t need to be all watchy and amped up. We don’t need to be filled with dread, as though what we’re thinking is going to magically transpire into a real-life wreck, like a dark and twisty version of The Secret. That’s not how horses work; they’re not watching and waiting for us to trip ourselves up. They only want to know that you and I see, too.

For all the people who don't like to ride with their eyes up and softly scanning their surroundings, this is the biggest reason why. 'Eyes up' is no show ring affectation. By seeing, you're talking your horse's language, without things getting lost in translation.

Teach yourself to see and to really pay attention. We’re constantly told to ‘listen to the horse’ but I think it would make more sense if we learned to see and take note of what they are saying to us.

If we just did that, there’d be a lot fewer bad surprises, ‘right out of the blue’.

Please note
Reposted from Facebook

27/08/2025

New to market
Koda, 5 yr old trotter, gelding
15.2hh
Nice minded guy with a sensible can do attitude
Make a great all rounder
Great to handle and ride
Good to float , shoe, clip etc
No dirt
Is green so will need a confident person to bring him along
Great potential in Koda
Never raced
Pm me for more info
Selling on behalf

07/08/2025

"A horse can only trust you as much as you trust him."

Not my words, but definitely my iron clad rule.

That belief has shaped my professional training career.

So when I ask my horses to stand on, or cross an obstacle, I don't usually run into much trouble because I never let doubt in. I wouldn't ask them to do it if I didn't know they were capable of it. If I didn't know we were both safe.

I don't take no for an answer either. If I don't doubt them, they have to learn not to doubt me. I do not beat them into the correct response, or bully and spur, but I do insist that they do as I tell them and every step forward is praised, even if the step is just a small softening forward between the reins, a fleeting thought of try.

Horsemanship is easy really; it's all about being someone you wouldn't mind working for. After all, a good boss always makes their employees feel like they are part of a 'we' not just grinding away for an 'I'. It's all about getting in sync with one another; working the kinks out of what will hopefully become a 51 to 49% partnership one day.

I love that concept. The key is, as a rider, always be sure you are in the position where you hold the 51%. Sometimes that is the part that people struggle with.

Have a good day folks. 😊

Re posted from pushin 40 horse training
As always a great read from this fella
Common sense and food for thought

03/08/2025

"If you aren't going to teach 'em, don't touch 'em."

That was my motto back when I started lots of colts for the public; I'd rather have someone run a wild brumby off their trailer, than be led off by a spoiled, no-mannered barnyard pet. Yes, you read that correctly. I always found that it was easier to tame one who had never been handled, than to train one who had been handled wrong.

Both scenarios take effort, but the first takes less than the second.

You are absolutely doing your horse a disservice by allowing them to be pushy and rude on the ground; by accepting them as hard to catch, when not addressing their nervousness leaving their herd mates or by making excuses for them clearing a hitching rail when they're tied. Every time you say, "Oh she is just mare'ish," or, "He gets herd bound away from his buddies," so you haul a companion every place you go.

You know what I say when I have horses come in like that?

"Suck it up buttercup, life is tough and you have to be tougher."

I don't chase horses to catch them. I hobble train AND tie train everything. I ride alone...A LOT. Mares get treated like geldings...no excuses for squealing and making flirty-time at the hitching rail. I will nip that behavior in the bud. 🤷

I don't believe in going around problems. If I do, you can bet it's a timing thing and I'm eventually going to circle back to it when I feel they can take in the correction.

I don't let horses lay the ground rules. They lead at my shoulder, they send onto the trailer with the shank over their neck, they ground tie where I drop their rein, they don't rub their heads on me, they pick up their feet and stand to be saddled...and all these good habits take time to teach. But so do the bad habits I have seen developed in horses coming in for training.

So, once again, don't touch them if you aren't going to teach them...keeping in mind of course, that every interaction with a horse, you are training them. You can either build the one you want, or build the one absolutely nobody wants, either way it is going to take some effort.

Have a good day folks. 😊

Re posted from
Pushin 40 horse training