Twin Oaks Farm - Horses and Fun

05/29/2026

Another good one from Tim Anderson Horse Training!

One of the easiest ways to sound compassionate on social media is to call every horse problem a medical issue.

It takes very little knowledge to type, “That horse is in pain.” It takes a lot more knowledge to actually know whether that is true.

That is where a lot of people get themselves in trouble. A horse pins its ears, refuses to go forward, roots the reins out of someone’s hands, braces against pressure, will not stand still, gets stiff, or acts aggressive, and somebody with limited experience immediately decides the horse must be sore. They get to feel righteous because they are “standing up for the horse,” but sometimes all they have really done is avoid learning what the horse is actually saying.

Now, before someone twists this into something I did not say, let me be clear. Medical issues are real. Pain is real. Feet, teeth, backs, hocks, stifles, ulcers, saddle fit, and overall body condition absolutely matter. I have spent my career looking at the whole horse, not just the riding part. Ignoring pain is not good horsemanship.

But calling every problem pain is not good horsemanship either.

Sometimes a horse is stiff because he is sore. Sometimes a horse is stiff because he is bracing against the rider. Sometimes a horse pins his ears because something hurts. Sometimes he pins his ears because he is thinking about kicking you. Sometimes a horse refuses to go forward because he physically cannot. Sometimes he refuses to go forward because he has learned that refusal works.

The answer is not to pick the explanation that makes us feel the most compassionate. The answer is to evaluate the whole horse. Watch the horse when you are not part of the equation. Watch how he moves loose in the pen. Watch how he acts on the lead rope, under saddle, around other horses, in different environments, and when he is asked to do something he does not want to do. Look for patterns. Look for consistency. Let the horse tell you the answer instead of forcing your favorite answer onto the horse.

This is where education matters. A medical problem needs to be addressed medically. A training problem needs to be addressed through training. A rider problem needs to be addressed through rider education. If we label all three of those as pain, we may sound kind, but we are not actually helping the horse.

An uneducated horse can suffer too. A horse that does not understand pressure lives in confusion. A horse that has learned to push through people can become dangerous. A horse that never learns focus, patience, emotional control, or willingness may spend its life being passed around because everyone keeps making excuses instead of fixing the real problem.

That is not advocacy. That is avoidance dressed up as compassion.

Real advocacy is caring enough to find the truth. Sometimes that truth leads to a veterinarian, farrier, dentist, chiropractor, body worker, or saddle fitter. Sometimes that truth leads right back to the human holding the lead rope or sitting in the saddle.

The horse does not need us to be dramatic. The horse needs us to be accurate.

Check for pain when it makes sense. Take medical issues seriously. But do not use “medical issue” as a blanket excuse for every hole in a horse’s education or every gap in a rider’s knowledge.

Calling everything pain may make someone feel righteous online.

Learning enough to know the difference is what actually helps the horse.

05/27/2026

From Tim Anderson Horse Training

I’m going to print this one out and hang it in the barn and make it required reading! Thanks Tim Anderson

There is a big difference between giving a horse a release and teaching a horse to find the release.

In the very beginning, when a horse is first started and we are teaching that horse to soften its face, the lesson is usually very simple. I pick up one rein. The horse feels that pressure. The instant the horse softens in that direction, I release the rein. That release is what tells the horse, “Yes, that was the answer.” At that stage, the release has to be quick because the horse does not yet understand what I am asking. I am not trying to hold the horse there. I am not trying to shape the whole body yet. I am simply teaching the horse that when it feels that rein, it should soften and give.

That is an important lesson, but it is only the beginning.

Too many riders stop right there. They teach the horse to give its face, then they spend the next several years picking up, getting a little softness, and immediately throwing the rein away. Then they wonder why the horse never learns to carry itself. They wonder why the horse never develops true collection. They wonder why the horse feels soft for one second and then falls apart the moment the rider quits holding the rein.

The problem is not that the release was wrong. The problem is that the horse was never advanced past the first stage of the lesson.

A young horse or green horse needs to learn that the pull of the rein is coming. At first, the horse may wait until the rein actually makes contact before it gives. Then, as the horse begins to understand, it starts to bring its head with the rein. The contact gets softer. The horse starts to follow the rider’s hand instead of waiting to be pulled. That is a major change in understanding. That is the point where the horse is no longer just reacting to pressure. The horse is beginning to look for the answer.

That is what I mean by teaching the horse to find the release.

When a horse has learned to find the release, the rider’s job starts to change. Instead of simply picking up the rein, getting softness, and immediately letting go, the rider can start putting their hand where they want the horse to be. Then they hold that position and allow the horse to find it. The horse learns that the answer is not just to move its face away from pressure. The answer is to place its body where the rider is asking and stay there until the rider releases.

That is a very different level of training.

This is also where a lot of people misunderstand what they are seeing. They think every time a rider holds contact, the rider is taking from the horse. They think the horse is being denied the release. But there is a difference between pulling on a horse that does not understand and holding a position for a horse that has been taught to search for the answer. One creates resistance. The other creates understanding.

When the horse is ready for that next stage, the rider should not always release the instant the horse gives. The rider may hold that contact for a couple of seconds before releasing. Then the release itself should become slower. The hand should not sn**ch, jerk, grab, or throw the rein away. The contact becomes smoother, and the release becomes smoother. The horse learns that the rider’s hand is not something to escape. The rider’s hand becomes something to follow.

That is where the horse starts learning self-carriage.

Self-carriage does not come from constantly giving the horse away. It also does not come from holding the horse together with force. It comes from teaching the horse to allow the rider to shape the body, hold that shape for a moment, and then gradually build the strength and understanding to stay there longer.

At first, that might only be two seconds. Then it becomes five seconds. Then ten seconds. Then the horse can hold that shape through a maneuver. Then through a circle. Then through a pattern. Eventually, the goal is for the horse to carry itself in that balance without the rider having to constantly hold every piece together.

That does not happen in one ride.

A horse has to build the muscle to carry itself that way. It has to develop strength through its back, loin, hip, stifle, and hock. It has to learn how to drive from behind while staying soft in the front. It has to learn that softness is not just bending the neck. Softness is letting the rider influence the whole body.

That is why true collection takes time.

A lot of horses are taught to give their face, but they are never taught to carry their body. That creates the illusion of softness. The horse may flex its neck. It may tuck its nose. It may feel light in the hand for a second. But if the hind end is not engaged and the horse is not learning to hold its body in balance, that is not collection. That is just a horse moving its face.

The face is the doorway, not the whole house.

In the beginning, I may reward the smallest try because the horse needs confidence. I may pick up one rein and release the instant the horse gives because that horse is learning the language. But as soon as the horse understands the basic answer, I have to start developing the lesson. I have to teach the horse that the rein does not just mean “move your head.” It means “follow my hand, soften your body, shape yourself, and stay with me.”

That is the progression many riders miss.

They are so focused on giving the release that they never teach the horse to search for the release. They release so quickly and so completely that the horse never learns to stay in the correct position. Then the horse becomes dependent on constant reminders. Every few strides, the rider has to pick the horse back up because the horse was never taught to hold itself there.

There is a time to release quickly.

There is also a time to hold long enough for the horse to understand that the correct answer is not just finding the position, but staying in the position.

That is the difference between basic softness and advanced training.

The better trained a horse becomes, the more the release becomes part of a conversation instead of just an escape from pressure. The horse learns that the rider’s hand is not punishment. The horse learns that contact is not something to fear. The horse learns to stay mentally connected to the rider and physically organized underneath itself.

That is when you start to feel a horse become truly broke.

Not because the horse hides behind the bit. Not because the rider can pull its head around. Not because the horse has been flexed a thousand times. The horse becomes broke because it understands how to find the answer, hold the answer, and carry the answer forward.

That is where self-collection begins.

05/04/2026

You know I LOVE mares!

05/04/2026

awesome post!

LITTLE TRAINING TIP NO 24.
- STOP HOLDING YOUR HORSE BACK

Finding your horse's natural rhythm is important if you want healthy gymnastic training. Often we hold our horses back aiming to make them 'round' instead of letting them go to express their natural movement to become 'round' through their own good balance and posture.

~ When there is a lot of energy - make use of it (ride forward)
~ When there is too much energy - shape it. (eg. make a circle, use counter bend or shoulder-in to slow the legs )
~ When there is too little energy - forward is the priority. (go straight ahead, take a light seat, give the leg lesson, go bush!)

A free forward trot in a light seat, and with neck extension, (to lengthen stride and seek contact) will cure many 'ailments'.

From this posture you can raise the base of the neck to ask for higher balance or cadence and collection. Transitions within the gaits help refresh and motivate your horse.

Horses were designed to go freely forward, and can get frustrated when they are physically restrained and not allowed to express their natural paces. Forward Impulsion enables collection. But keep it clear for your horse - legs without hands and hands without legs.

As Philippe Karl often says: "Let him do”. Open your fingers, soften your arms, and really go. If you are to convince your horse, you too must be convinced that you really want to go! Too many riders are confusing and dulling their horses, lacking confidence to ease off the reins, holding them back with contradictory aids.

> Impulsion = reactivity to light leg aids
> Without impulsion there can be no equitation.
> You cannot collect what is not first energised.
> You cannot elevate what is not first long.

And for efficient impulsion, the horse’s poll the highest point, and the nose... in front of the vertical, in all positions of the neck.

Collection is the result of a collection of whole body movements, in balance, in lightness, in self-carriage. It has nothing to do with tucking in, pulling in, holding in or restraining the horse’s head. Further, if your horse is blessed with good gaits - don’t stifle them… use them!

Inspiration & illustration : Philippe Karl 🙂

04/24/2026

Good one!

Warning Signs
�By Gaye Derusso

Usually, before something bad happens with your horse, there are warning signs. The problem is, most people don’t listen. We’re so busy paying attention to everything except the horse that we miss all the things they’re trying to tell us.

Your horse is saying things like:

“I have too much energy. All that sugar you gave me has now added up.”�“I haven’t run in a long time. Horses like to run, remember? Let’s go play in the arena.”�“I don’t feel like it today.”�“I don’t like that horse going up my butt this whole ride.”�“I don’t like these people you’re riding with.”�“I’m worried. I’m scared. I want my buddy. I miss my stall.”

They walk away when you go to catch them. They pin their ears. They move their feet. They stare at things that weren’t a big deal yesterday. These are warning signs.

It starts small and gets bigger and bigger until it explodes. Then you hear, “He went crazy for no reason and tried to kill me!” No, Alice—you just didn’t listen.

You’ll hear owners say:
• “He never spooks, but lately he’s been getting kind of jumpy.”
• “He always spooks, but now the spooks are more often or bigger.”
• “He raises his hind foot when standing by another horse.”
• “He keeps pinning his ears at one specific horse.”
• “He moved while I was trying to get on. He never does that.”
• “He shot forward when I was just walking him to the arena.”

Those are not ‘random.’ That’s your horse yelling in horse language.

When I was working as a PA, horse people came in all the time. (Of course they did—horses are hazardous hobbies disguised as pets.) Every time, I’d ask exactly what happened. The story was always the same: the horse suddenly blew up, and they had “no idea why.”

So I’d ask, “Had your horse been acting different the last few rides? Spooking more? Not wanting to be caught? Acting off in the arena or on the trail?” And the answer was always yes.
Those little changes? That’s your horse talking to you:

“My back hurts.”�“The saddle doesn’t fit.”�“I don’t like your crazy horse friends.”�“I don’t like that horse up my *** all the time.”�“I don’t feel safe.”

Just like people, if you keep pushing—even the calm ones—eventually they blow. Animals are the same, except they usually give clearer warnings. The problem is, most people don’t recognize them.

That’s why learning horse body language matters. You need to know what your horse looks like when it’s relaxed versus when it’s worried, afraid, tight, or about to explode. Groundwork lets you see the difference: when your horse is afraid, when it’s accepting, when it needs to move, and when it’s ready to think.

Always work the extra energy off so it doesn’t build up and blow up. But what do people do?

“He’s lazy.”�“I tried to chase him and he wouldn’t move, so I stopped.”�“I don’t have time for groundwork, I just want to ride.”
And in skipping that, you skip the part where the horse is communicating with you.

If you want to be safe and have a good relationship with your horse, you must look for warning signs and catch the small things.

I can’t tell you how many clients I’ve stopped from getting on a horse that was clearly not ready—especially at boarding barns. They’re all tacked up, foot in the stirrup, and I’m yelling, “Do NOT get on that horse!”

One example:

I had a very calm mare that I sold to a lady. This mare was a saint—always stood still, never a problem. I told the new owner, “Always round pen this horse before you ride. She’s locked in a 12x12 stall; that’s a lot of energy with nowhere to go. Let her move, let her see the surroundings again.”

Like many clients, she didn’t always listen.

One day, she’s about to get on in the arena. I happen to be there. Because I’m OCD about watching horses, I’m watching her the whole time.

The mare moves her feet as she goes to mount.
The lady pulls her back into position and starts to get on again.
I yell, “Don’t get on!”

She says, “Why? She just moved. What’s the big deal?”
I say, “She just told you she’s not ready. If you get on a horse that isn’t ready, something bad is going to happen. Did you round pen her like I told you?”

She says, “No, she seemed fine today.”

I say, “She’s telling you she’s not fine. Take her to the round pen. Give her 10–20 minutes. Then come back and get on.”
She does it—because I’m standing there watching.

She round pens the mare. The mare moves, snorts, bucks a bit, looks around. Then she starts licking and chewing. Her eyes soften, her head drops. Now she looks relaxed.

The owner brings her back into the arena. The mare is totally relaxed, licking and chewing, eyes half-closed.

She pulls her up to the mounting block, steps on, and the horse doesn’t move an inch.

I say, “See the difference? That’s the difference between a wreck and a ride. That’s the difference between the ER and going home in one piece.

Choose life.

04/18/2026

Funny but unfortunately too true,

The Making of a Barn-Sour Horse
By Gaye Derusso

My name is Bobby and I’m a big chestnut Fox Trotter. I’ve had a good life, but recently it got so much better. I am so excited to tell you about it.

I started work around the age of four. I’m now ten years old. I know, you think that’s only six years of work, but in horse years that’s at least thirty years of work. I should be getting a pension and a gold feed bucket by now.

Anyway, I got trained really well to do my job. I’m a gaited trail horse. They taught me to gait nicely and gave me lots of good habits. I was taught to listen and always be respectful. And it worked out pretty well. I’ve only had one owner, and she said she wanted me to be the best I could possibly be so everyone would want me if she couldn’t keep me anymore.

Well, the day came. She lost her job, got divorced, and everything just went south. Luckily, she had a nice friend who was dying to have me—because, you know, I’m amazing. So she sold me to her friend. Her name is Marilyn and she is the best.

Every morning she gives me alfalfa and a big tub of grain. Then we talk for a while and just hang out. Well she does most the talking.

She doesn’t do any real arena or groundwork. She just likes to ride on the trail, but not like my other mom. Marilyn only likes to go one or two times a week. This job is a piece of cake. I tried to keep up my good training, but she didn’t seem to care if I was fancy or not. So here and there I tried things and got away with them. I couldn’t believe it.

One day I tried a big one. She got on, we headed toward the trail… and I just stopped. Not hard—I don’t want her to fall off—I just… parked. She thought something was wrong with me and took me back to the barn. She took off my tack, put me away, and called the vet. I was like, wow, that worked?

The next day the vet comes out, looks me over, and says I might have ulcers, so keep the stress low and see how it goes. She gives me some meds, and a week later Marilyn tries to take me on the trail again. So again, I stopped. This was a fun game. I didn’t know this was even an option. She got off again and called the vet back. Scoped me—that was not fun—and found no ulcers. Just a very clever horse.

So she tries over and over to go on trail, and I just keep stopping. I can’t believe this keeps working, but Jo Jo, my new buddy, says he tried it years ago and has never had to go on the trail since. That guy is great, full of bad ideas and good information.

Now she just feeds me and pets me, and I hear her complaining on the phone. I think she said I’m “barn sour”? Pretty sure she meant “barn lover.” I love the barn: my food, my soft bed, my new friends, my not-having-to-walk-up-hills.

I can hear my old mom telling her that’s impossible, and I’m neighing in the background, “No it’s not! I finally figured out I don’t have to leave the barn!” Jo Jo and I take notes. I hear my old mom telling Marilyn some stuff to try. Jo Jo says, “Don’t worry, we got this.”

“Next time you stop,” he says, “if she tries to make you go, you pin your ears and kick out. If that doesn’t work and she persists, you kick out with both legs. That usually does it. But if for some reason it doesn’t, I want you to rear up as high as you can. That always works.”

So I’m ready. She tacks me up and off we go. I wink at Jo Jo, “I’ll be right back.” He neighs and laughs, “Okay, buddy, I’ll save you some hay.” We head out. I stop. She taps me with a stick. I kick out. She gets off and back to the barn we go. “Hey, Jo Jo, great advice. I only got to step one and she gave up. Yay! Tack off and give me my hay.”

Jo Jo looks at me and says, “Told you this was a great life.” Next day, a random cowboy shows up. “Hey, Jo Jo, who’s that?” I ask. “I don’t know,” he says, “never seen him before. But he looks… motivated.”

Marilyn comes over and points me out. The cowboy tacks me up and does some groundwork and lunging, then says I am a highly trained horse. (Obviously.) He gets on and off we go toward the trail. Jo Jo yells out, “This might take all three of the steps I told you!”

And it did. I tried every single one. But that darn cowboy called my number. He spun me so many times I got dizzy and just went forward to make it stop. Before you know it, I was on the trail again. So I did the whole trail. On the way back, I got excited to see Jo Jo and my food and to get this big guy off my back, so I went a little fast.

The cowboy didn’t seem to care, he just let me run home, but the cowboy had more plans. He rode me all over the barn—even in my stall. He rode me for an hour and told me no place is safe except the trail. Then he tied me up for two hours, and I saw him and Marilyn having a drink and laughing. I was not laughing anymore. By the time they untied me I didn’t care about the barn or Jo Jo. I just thought this is bu****it!

That darn cowboy showed up every day. So I finally just gave up. It was too hard to keep it up, and the trail is actually fun. I get exercise, breaks, some treats, and some grazing. Back at the barn it’s kind of miserable now—apparently I turned my “safe place” into the “work zone.” So I don’t like to go home fast anymore. Out on the trail is where I actually get to relax.

I didn’t start out barn sour. I just got clever, then stubborn, then… lucky. Because in the end, I didn’t just keep my barn—I got a best friend, a human partner, and a life that’s way more interesting than standing at the gate pretending to be broken.

And don’t worry about Jo Jo. He’s still running the “How to Train Your Human” program.

I just switched majors—from Barn Avoidance to Advanced Trail Fun.

Check back tomorrow so you can find out how to fix your barn sour horse in more detail!

04/14/2026

From Eqclusive

Most riders groom to remove mud. I groom to find the ‘drop’.

The first minutes on the yard are often rushed, yet they are the most critical window for your horse’s performance. If your horse is tight or distracted before you tack up, that tension follows you into the arena.

The shoulder and neck contain high concentrations of tactile receptors linked to the parasympathetic nervous system. Proven research shows that slow, rhythmic pressure in this zone triggers a physiological shift. When your horse lowers their head, licks, or chews, they aren't just being ‘good’: they are physically shifting from a sympathetic (alert) state to a parasympathetic (relaxed) state.

I call this ‘The Shoulder Minute’. Dedicating the first 60 seconds of your session to deliberate, calming strokes in this area signals safety to the brain. You aren’t just cleaning a coat; you are regulating a nervous system.

Save this for your next ride and observe the change in focus. To master the science of equine regulation, my ebook ‘The Regulated Horse’ details these protocols. Message me ‘RELAX’ for the link.

04/10/2026

From Positive Connection Equine Training

"If you don't punish them, how do you interrupt them from a bad or dangerous behavior?"

One big tactic in dog training is the use of "interrupters".

Interrupters are quick, non-aversive signals that break the animal's focus for long enough to redirect them into a safer or more appropriate behavior. For example, a dog who is barking may be able to hear you call for them, in which case you are able to:
a) break up the behavior
b) be able to find something else to reward them for, and
c) help them associate the cause of the barking as a predictor that you will call them off for a reward, thus eventually changing the behavior from barking to running to you proactively.

We can absolutely use interrupters with horses too! As with dogs, we need to make sure an interrupter is NOT punishment but instead a cue that allows them to break out of their behavior and focus on something else.

When used well, it can help a horse move out of an escalating issue without the need for us to use punishment, pain, or fear to retrain or to keep ourselves safe.

Some examples of interrupters we can use in horse training include a check-in cue when they feel stressed or upset to change the behavior from acting out to checking in with you, or it can even be as simple as making a circle while riding a horse who is distracted or tense, to help redirect them into something you are able to reinforce.

Interrupters are NOT activities that add fuel to the fire, such as yanks or corrections on a halter / lead, chasing a horse into movement, or escalating high pressure for a different ask. Interrupters rely much less on avoidance and much more on seeking the reward of a positive ask to be able to interrupt the behavior cycle into something more positive for everyone.

The goal is to create a positive new behavior for them to seek, not to make the negative association of anticipating a negative interrupter.

03/31/2026

From Sole Purpose Hoof Care

If you don't like donkeys, don't work with them. They won't like you back, they'll let you know, and you'll traumatize them with rough treatment.

If you're interested in understanding donkeys, read on.

🫏Donkeys 101 for Farriers 🫏

Donkeys do not like sustained pressure. Do not snub them to anything. Do not rope and hold their leg until they stop kicking. Do not hobble them or tie a leg up. Do not ear twitch them.

If you do any of the above (with the exception of the rope around the leg, that can be done thoughtfully!), that donkey will never trust you and possibly other farriers that come behind you. You may get that one trim halfway done but you've caused so much damage, that donkey may never let you touch them again.

Donkeys DO like being taught to accept appropriate, limited pressure. They do like going at their own pace as they trust you more. They do like treats and scratches. They do like you observing and respecting their threshold. They do like to be trimmed near their donkey friends. They do like praise and affection.

If you meet a donkey, and they've been trained for the farrier, and they like you - great, congratulations, trim away.

If you meet a donkey and the owner can't catch them, they shy away when you reach to touch them, they turn their butt to you like they got goosed, they flinch away from your touch, or they walk away, they are not ready for a full trim.

It's not uncommon for my first trim appointment with a donkey to be a meet and great. I'll bring treats, I'll see what they'll offer me *without pressure* and then that's our baseline to work from.

Next steps - discuss sedation and hiring a trainer.

If the feet are extremely overgrown, schedule a joint vet/farrier appointment and have the vet sedate to get their feet done safely. Then the training begins.

If their feet can wait, start with the training.

If they're in the middle, and/or the owner can successfully sedate, then trim, train, and wean off the sedation over time.

While the donkey is sedated, keep your energy aware but very quiet. Whisper with the owner and the vet/trainer. Limit your touch of the donkey other than lifting/holding the legs and feet. Work quickly. Watch their balance and let them have a break if they need to readjust.

If you get a tail swish, an attempted kick, they drag their mouth on the ground, or they try to bite you, pay attention. They may not be as sedated as you hoped or they're waking up. End your trim before they show too many signs of distress. Walk away early!

If you think any of the above is bu****it, then consider this. Donkeys can kick with their hind legs hard in pretty much any direction including at your head while you're holding up a front hoof. Their aim is good. They will bite if provoked. They are not domesticated horses with the tolerance for poking and prodding and pushing. They hold a grudge. They remember and never forget.

So for your safety and theirs, be smart.

If a donkey tells you to f**k off, listen the first time.

If you have to heavily sedate AND restrain a donkey to get them trimmed, they may not recover their trust in you or the vet.

If the owner will not sedate or train, do not trim for them.

If the donkey really doesn't trust you but loves their owner, teach their owner to trim.

If a donkey likes you, you'll find your heart absolutely melted with how soft and sweet they are. Holding up their feet is like working on air. They rest their head on you while you work on them or a friend. They nose your pockets for treats. They stand nearby, eyes closed, meditating. Donkeys have such a special energy and presence.

What else have you learned about working with our donkey friends?