December 19, 2025: The Lane, the Opinions, and the Lessons
This week’s lesson did not involve barrels, poles, or even speed. It involved a perfectly normal stretch of dirt between two fences and a mare with very strong feelings about it.
Welcome to The Lane.
If you have never had a horse stop cold for reasons that make perfect sense to her and no one else, consider yourself lucky. Bee has always had opinions. Lots of them. This lane is simply the most recent item on her agenda.
The Mysterious, Totally Normal, Deeply Suspicious Lane
This week Bee and I had yet another showdown with The Lane. You’d think it was just a simple stretch of dirt between the mare pasture and the gelding pasture, but according to Bee, it is clearly a portal to the underworld.
Whenever I point her down that lane, she stops like someone just pressed her pause button. I kiss, I nudge, I tap her hip with my hand, and Bee says, “Thank you for your input, but no.”
She’ll go down it perfectly fine if another horse leads. But alone? Hard stop. Absolutely not. Every time. I have tried to analyze what exactly offends her about this 40 yards of earth:
Is she buddy sour because she can see her girlfriends in the pasture living their best “all-you-can-eat round bale” lifestyle?
Is she avoiding the geldings the way I avoid exercise and foods I know are good for me?
Is she eager to get back to the barn where snacks and admiration live?
Is she avoiding what I call the barrel and pole arena because it usually involves work (aka exercise)?
Is she suspicious about the cows on the west side of the property?
The horses on the northwest side?
The small ditch she pretends is a Grand Canyon?
Or is it the Hitchcock-level bird population over there that threatens to swoop at any moment?
Honestly, I have considered all of that and more.
“We have reached the negotiating portion of the ride.”
Eventually, I have to remove the strap from my handy phone keeper that my kids gave me. It is embossed with “Mammy” (my grandma name) and “No texting and trotting,” which feels especially ironic in this moment. I give her one small snap on the hip like a makeshift crop. Not dramatic. Not aggressive. Just enough to say, “We are doing this.”
She does not bolt. She does not leap. She simply sighs, accepts her fate, and walks forward like I have deeply inconvenienced her personal schedule.
Practice Makes Progress
Today, instead of heading out across the property, I decided to make the lane the lesson until one of us gave in. Spoiler: it wasn’t going to be me.
We went down the lane, turned around, went back, turned around again, rinse and repeat. Bee was not impressed, but she was compliant. Progress! After several successful laps, I figured we were good for the day and headed back toward the arena.
Just when I thought we were done with opinions, she arrived at the barn and planted her feet like someone had changed her GPS destination mid-route. Instead of turning toward the arena, she made a beeline for the untacking area. When I said, “Arena please,” she said, “Let’s circle back to that idea later.” She had clearly decided her workday was complete.
Good thing that strap was still in my hand.
She went to the arena.
The Moral of the Story
Bee has opinions. Lots of them. She has preferences, expectations, and a very active internal suggestion box.
But here is the thing. Every time she says no, I get an opportunity to calmly and confidently say yes. Every hesitation is a chance to reinforce leadership, trust, and communication. And every small win adds up.
Today was a win. This was not a flashy ride. There were no fast runs or fancy patterns. Not a glamorous win, but a real one. Real progress.
Even the most opinionated mare can learn that the lane and the arena are not optional.
And I can learn that some of the most important horsemanship moments happen at a standstill.
Until next time,
Christina and Bee 🐝💛
P.S.: Lane Update
Subsequent to writing this post, I am happy to report that the lane training is officially underway and Bee is already proving she is several steps ahead of me.
We have practiced the lane daily. The first day after this post, I still had to pull the strap out, but it took exactly one tiny tap and she marched right on down like she had places to be. Feeling proud and optimistic, I decided to reward her at the end. You made it all the way down the scary lane. Good girl.
On the way back, she stopped halfway. Planted her feet. Turned her head nearly all the way around like something out of The Exorcist and politely asked where her next treat was. Turns out she learns patterns very quickly.
I gave her one. We continued. Then we went back and forth a few more times. No treats. She did it anyway, though clearly under protest.
The next day, she went down the lane at the start of the ride with no issues. We cruised the hayfield, came back, and again she went right down the lane. No hesitation. No drama.
Today was more of the same. She went down the lane without complaint, even after Bee expressed her feelings (more than once) to Major and Carobeth with some well placed double barrels when they crowded her space. Eeek. Something else to work on!
So progress is being made. Bee still has opinions, but the lane is slowly losing its power. And I am learning, once again, that I should never underestimate a mare who understands rewards better than I do.