Behind the scenes… A trainer’s perspective on what is really entailed when a horse arrives for training.

When I get a call from an owner about a potential horse to participate in training, a lot runs through my mind during the conversation.  First I always try to really listen to what the owner is (or in many cases isn’t) saying.  Often by the time people find me, if the depth of my website ( learnhorses.com ) hasn’t scared them off, they’ve usually been to several mainstream trainers and have experienced a bit of “what they don’t want,” and now are realizing they have to become more picky about what they do want. Sadly (for the horse’s sake,) anyone can (and will) hang a sign out that says they are a horse trainer.  The horses are the ones who wind up “paying” the real price in the long run.  Often there is a set program or training style that is rigid and unforgiving to the horse that doesn’t comply.  The consequences and outcome for those horses tend to be fearful, insecure, and a reinforced distrust towards humans. At that point, the owner realizes the horse they sent to the “professional” has now come home with more issues than when they originally sent them.  And that is where trainers like me come into the picture. Even the term “horse trainer” makes me feel a bit uncomfortable and isn’t appropriate, though I still use it to help communicate what I do.  I think “horse helper” might be more accurate.  But back to the typical phone conversations of potential clients.  I am a realist, which often leads me to see a less than “pretty” picture when I start hearing the details of what someone tells me…  Let me explain. Common Conversations/My Interpretation: Owner comment (OC): “I’m not completely comfortable riding him.   He’s never done anything wrong so far, and he’d never buck or do anything bad, but he doesn’t seem relaxed.”  My Interpretation: He is a ticking bomb that is tolerating whatever has been asked of him and it is not a matter of “if” but rather when, he is going to explode if someone doesn’t help him. OC: “He was really easy to catch and start riding in the beginning of last season, but this year I’m having a much more difficult time with him.” My Interpretation: Whatever you “did” with the horse last year did not make him feel confident, this year therefor he is attempting to prevent that discomfort through being difficult to “catch” or resistant when you work with him. OC: “He’s very sweet and loves me, he is always rubbing on me, but he can get a bit strong when I ride.” My Interpretation: Starting from the ground the horse is defending himself by spatially dominating your personal space by physically rubbing on you. Hr continues with his taking over when you’re in the saddle, hence you feeling him heavy on the bit.  His “leaning on the bit” also means he has no concept of softening to pressure, and my guess is starting when you lead him with a lead rope he is heavy, disrespectful, and pushy because he’s never been told otherwise. OC: “He’s a bit fussy about saddling and mounting but after that he’s fine.” My Interpretation: Anticipation.  Defensiveness.  Usually, unless there are pain issues- which often there are- saddling and mounting “issues” are the symptom, not the issue.  The horse is anticipative about the upcoming experience and so his mental and emotional concern is reflected through his excessive physical movement.   Putting it into people terms, if you’re worried and stress do you sit still, relaxed or are physically agitated?  Same for the horse.  When he is confident, comfortable, and clear, he’ll stand quiet and relaxed. So you get the idea.  But I also know that most owners have limited experience and exposure whether with horses in general or their own animals.  So it is my job to have some honest conversations with the horse. For a person to hear what the horse is offering, they must be “clear” and available to honestly see what is going on.  If they are not a 110% present for their horse, a lot will be missed when interacting with him. Many people live in the grey area.  They frequently have difficulty making decisions and lack confidence in establishing boundaries in general, which is reflected in the interactions with their horse. So when working with a herd animal who is instinctively searching for support from a leader,, if you add an inexperienced/unconfident/unaware human to the “herd,” it isn’t long before that horse takes over.  Not motivated through dominance, but rather by survival instincts. The longer the relationship continues with the horse “taking” the human, rather than vice versa, the more uncomfortable the human will become as they ask more of their horse.  Eventually there will come a point where the person gets scared.  Then they finally ask for help. Being the leader to the horse has NOTHING to do with dominating or physically constraining him, though often that is how people interpret being a leader to a 1,000lb animal. In fact just as with other people, it all comes down to how we communicate with one another.  If someone were to just keep screaming at another person all the time, eventually their loudness gets “tuned out.”  The same goes with the horses.  People are overactive, “busy,” distracted, rough, and clumsy, etc. and eventually the horse just learns to tune them out. Fork in the road But what if we came back to the standard that if a horse can feel a fly land on him and twitch in response, how lightly, softly and clearly can we HUMANS communicate with the horse? And this is where owners arrive at the fork in the road.  Initially it may have appeared that “it” was about bringing your horse for training.  And yes often horses need more than what the amateur rider can offer education wise to their horse.  Even more important than that, it really is about PEOPLE “training,” and I don’t mean the traditional biomechanical lessons or the “do’s and don’ts” of horse management. What I’m referring to, and I wrote more about this in another post, The Mirror.  People often have to set aside their own emotions towards their horse, and get honest with themselves in order to get quality, long lasting changes in their relationship with their horse. I know, I know, there are plenty of folks who just want to hop on, get “away” from life, enjoy their horse and go home.  Which is fine.  IF you have a confident, experienced, and curious horse.  IF you don’t, you find out rather quickly that the “ride” isn’t JUST about you, but rather you and your horse.  And if you don’t start working with your horse and address HIS needs first, you’re going to get into trouble pretty fast.  But again, most folks don’t believe it’ll go wrong as fast, as big or as dramatic as it does, until the day it actually happens.   “All of a sudden,” is not really a statement I agree with.  My thoughts are that the root cause of the “all of a sudden” moment may have started six months, six weeks or six minutes ago.  And if the person did nothing to address the initial signs of a problem, the problem will just increase until an unwanted outcome occurs. I write this based on personal experience of working with hundreds of horses over the last three decades.  I write this out of a moral obligation that SOMEONE needs to educate horse folks because so many dramatic events for humans and horses, miscommunication, and emotional stress could/can be prevented. 

A gallop across the field... An alternative perspective

It had been a long time since I’ve galloped.  Literally.

So very often I have people tell me their horse “loves” to gallop, and as I watch the horse move at a faster pace, I often see fear in the horse’s eye and body.  In my personal experience more often than not, the horse displaying what is typically interpreted by the human as having the “desire” to run, when really it is a horse trying to flee the scene.

For me, the more I learned about all the “stuff” I’d missed in regards to my horse’s brain and emotions, the more I realized I had no right galloping for many, many reasons.  My priorities have since shifted to the concept that not until the horse is mentally, emotionally and physically with me, do I ask for the faster speeds. 

Looking back I now would classify most of my galloping experiences as A.) A challenge of surviving the ride based on my ego vs. doing what was best for my horse, B.) A frightful experience for the horse due to lack of effective support I offered to the horse, and C.) Something I’m surprised I’ve did so frequently with as little crash-and-burns as I have had for how sort-of out-of-control I was.

Now you may be imagining me as having been on one “of those” scary riders on “crazy” or “difficult” horses, but I was not.  I actually blended in quite well with the rest of the riders.  Same strong horse, same strong bits to stop, spurs to go, and devices to help keep the horse's head down, and a hopeful mentality every time I swung a leg over the saddle.  

No one thought it was odd to exchange equine related ER stories over dinner, to have dramatic rides or heart stopping experiences.  The collective "we" in my world at that time thought that “that” was what it took to prove that you were up to the task.  Accomplishing the end goal whether within a certain time frame, over specific obstacles, or just surviving better and faster than anyone else had, was our sole focus.

An ex Chef’d Equipe to the USA Eventing team once told me in a lesson to keep a riding journal.  It was some of the best advice I had ever received.  But it wasn’t until years after most of my entries had been made that I then realized the power of what I’d written at the time.  When I read it in present day, it seems as if someone else wrote the journal, as if I can’t even remember how “I” used to be in my approach towards horses.

I have always naturally been analytical, and I believe part of what interested me in teaching others was my “problem solving” mentality.  But when I review the old journal entries I realize, as literal as I was in taking the instruction back then, and how much of it (classical) was addressing major and valid points in my riding and my horses, every single instructor no matter their background or discipline had “missed” presenting the pieces that would allow me to mentally connect the whole picture of the whats, hows and whys I was supposed to be do something.

It was like lessons would focus on what seemed (from my student perspective) as to be some random problem, rather than addressing the root cause, which in my own  riding (and many other riders) was a weak foundation causing the unwanted results.  We kept trying to band aid symptoms, rather than do surgery and fix the foundation.

Most of the instruction was often focused on both what my horse and I were NOT supposed to be doing, rather than creating a clear concept in my mind as to what we were supposed to be accomplishing.  No one mentioned that when the little pieces were connected it would create the ideal “ride” we were striving for. 

I was basically learning how to ride defensively and in a critical manner towards the horse; critiquing each wrong move, rather than communicating to the horse what I wanted from the start.  It was sort of like a game of chess.  I’d wait for his move, he’d wait for mine.  Then it was a mental challenge to see who’d “win” the round.  It was exhausting.  To work so hard to get “it” right and feel like I was still grasping at air and even with the compliments from mentors, I never really felt my horse recognize any relief from my constant demands. 

There was a time when I rode race horses from 6am-10am, then headed to ride for a Dressage international USA representative and judge for three hours, then early afternoons were spent at an internationally competitive jumper facility and finally evenings with my own horses.  I was riding a LOT of horses.  Ranging from mediocre racing lines to hundreds of thousands dollar “super-star” steeds.

And I approached each place as if it were a completely “separate” world from the previous one.  Why?  Because that’s what I’d been taught.  “These” are ______________ (discipline) and this is how we _____________ ride these _______________(breed) kind of horses.  And I believed what I was told.

Never, ever, ever, EVER did I consider the horse was still a horse, no matter the breed, background, discipline or experience level.    I was taught to consider lots of things ABOUT the horse, such as if the swelling I felt in the leg was new or a result of an old injury.  I considered the level of “excitement” the horse would have if he was turned out too long or not lunged enough.  I was taught a lap of walking around the barn as equivalent to a “hack” or let down time for the horse.  I was told trotting on the side of a narrow European back country road in the pouring rain with cars flying past as “quality training” to teach the horse to be reasonable even though every muscle in his body was taut with fear.

I didn’t give a second thought towards the fidgeting, fussy horses.  Or ones that had vices, didn’t like to be groomed or tacked, and were a bit “hot” to start or ones that I had to do things a certain way in order to get the horse to comply.  I worked at barns where horses were kept sedated and with cages on their face to prevent them from attacking humans. 

I didn’t realize that a horse could be respectful when led out of the stall or gate, could stand while being mounted or that his pinning of his ears when I applied leg pressure was not a fluke.  I didn’t worry if he swished his tail, or couldn’t halt in the middle of a “work” session. 
I laughed at the horse and all the things he was scared of and “forced” him through those scenarios.  The ones that were difficult I was taught you just had to sedate to shoe or load into the trailer, and these were just normal occurrences.  “That” was just how it was, and I had lots of other things to hurry up and do.

Now you might be thinking, sheesh, maybe I just wasn’t “getting it,” and that it had nothing to do with the quality of the instruction.  Over the years my learning experience has ranged from the local Pony Club volunteers to Gold Medalist Olympians to the dying breed of what I call “real world horsemen.”  It is very, very, very rare to have someone who can communicate in a way that makes sense to “everyone,” and who can offer both the detail oriented instruction and still offer the big-picture perspective all the while prioritizing the horse’s needs first.

Way back then I could rattle off all of theoretical cliché dos and don’ts of “classical” riding.  But I had no feel.  I had no timing.  I had no rhythm.  I had no finesse.  I had no awareness toward’s my horse’s brain, emotions and body.  I had no sensitivity in how I used my energy.  I had no concept of pressure, whether it was physical or spatial.

And yet I was still going through the motions of appearing to have somewhat successful rides on a multitude of horses. 

As most people would agree, the horse is usually the best teacher of all.  The problem is most people (not purposely- such was the case for me) are completely unavailable to honestly hear and/or consider the horse.  I know that may sound funny, but it is true. 

Give the person the option of A.) Sneaking past the “scary” object and continuing on as if it didn’t exist, or B.) Stopping and addressing what was bothering the horse and nine out of 10 folks would (and do) pick option A. 

Are they trying to avoid a conflict?  A blow up?  A potentially dangerous ride?  Yes.  And smart of them to think that.  But I mostly believe they choose option A. because they don’t have enough effective “tools to communicate”, they don’t have enough tools to give them options in how they communicate, and they don’t connect the dots that if something is bothering the horse now, that he will not just “let it go” and move on, but rather he will continue to carry that emotion and stress and it will increase as the ride continues if it is not addressed.

So it wasn’t until one day at some low level competition in England where I was grooming that I started for some reason to look around me.  I saw stressed out riders.  I saw stressed out horses.  I didn’t see anyone smiling.  Even the rare pat offered to a horse for a good performance was perfunctory rather than heartfelt.  I saw injured horses being asked to do things too soon in their healing process.  I saw horses still willing to try, even with injury or fear or both.  I saw how much “masking” was going on, all for the sake of the “end result.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I think competition can be awesome.  But what I was finding was that more often than not, the end goal became such a focus point that the quality of the journey to get there was lost.  Perspective was nonexistent.  Why was I having to hand walk  a soaking wet (with sweat) horse at 8pm on a cold winter night after a top international level rider/instructor/Olympian decided the horse wasn’t “getting it” and rode the horse for three, yes THREE, hours for the horse to “better understand.”  Hmmm.

You may say, “oh bad trainer.”  Well this same person is currently coaching top level competitors worldwide.  For me, that was the beginning of the breaking point.  The preparing of horses for photographing the “ideal "ride" to go along with the idealistic and inspiring magazine article by another big name trainer, and then behind the scenes when no one was around next day, to have the same horse run into the ground to “teach him a lesson.”

I also started realizing the more “soft” I was getting towards the horses, the more severe the judgment, criticism and harsh instruction was directed towards me.    And as with anything, once you start questioning the fundamental “basics” of a specific belief, the rest of the thoughts and things you thought you knew start coming crashing down at a rapid pace.

So long story short, I extracted myself from the horse world as I knew it.  I had to mentally and emotionally heal from a life long trauma I hadn't even realized was happening through my experiences.
I had to reintroduce myself to the horse the years later.  The most basic fundamentals of being around an animal, showing it respect, offering my own availability to actually recognize what the animal was trying to communicate.  

For the first time EVER I had no agenda, other than trying to figure out how to get my fire-breathing-red-head-thoroughbred at the the time to keep all four feet on the ground when stressed.  And oh how my world changed.

Every time I thought I’d tried, offered and experimented “enough” to get a change in that horse, he’d demand more of me.  I think he was my karma horse for all I’d unintentionally “done” to past horses I’d worked with.  EVERYTHING was a big deal.  He was either 100% okay or 110% not, and there was NO middle ground.  You couldn’t manhandle his athleticism, you couldn’t “make” him do anything and I certainly was not someone he trusted. I tried everything I knew, and nothing worked.  At all.  In fact it just made things worse.  So I finally had to ask for help. 

I remember laughing when I reminisced about the “old” galloping I used to do at a break neck speed, and here I was just trying to get this darn chestnut to walk a straight line at a reasonable pace without rearing, bucking or _____________. 

On one hand I was in awe of him because of his acute awareness, his infallible timing, his athleticism and his persistence at not becoming “submissive” towards me.  On the other hand it was overwhelming to feel no progress, and only a worsening in his fear, worry and discontent.

With nothing to lose, I reconnected with an old timer who wasn’t fazed by much.  When I unloaded my red steed, the cowboy straightened up by about four inches.  His eyes danced with enthusiasm at my “project.”  I was open to trying anything, so we started at what should have been the “very” beginning of establishing a connection with the horse in order to create a mental availability. 

I was standing in the middle of a round pen while my horse was having a nervous breakdown over something happening a mile away (literally), when that cowboy stood up and asked if he could go in the pen.  Ever have that feeling where you can’t wait to “get away” from your own horse?  I had it.  And then I watched. 

It didn’t even take a full two minutes and there was this HUGE but almost unintelligible conversation happening between my horse and the cowboy, courtesy of using the lead rope.  He’d wiggled the rope with a finger.  He’d shift his hand ever so slightly; he’d pick up the energy in his fingers just a notch.  My horse hadn’t moved; no circles, no fleeing, no dramatic behavior other than what at first appeared to be just a few nods of his head.  And suddenly, he was blowing his nose.  Over and over again, dropped his head and let all tension out of his body, passed manure, sighed, breathed, relaxed his eyes, and cocked a hind foot.  The worry peaks over his eye were gone; there was a softness and alertness in his body, rather than defensiveness.

I wanted to scream, “Why hadn’t anyone told me about …. About… THIS?” How had no one ever, EVER offered me the idea that my horse’s emotions could change everything?  I mean, we talked about stressed out horses, and how to contain them, sedate them, wear them down, etc. but never had anyone I known even considered that we could influence a mental and emotional CHANGE by doing so LITTLE if we were specific and clear.  And then to imagine what we could ask physically of a mentally and emotionally happy horse?  Wow.

So that week I had to re-evaluate everything I thought I knew.  Years after the fact, I was still having epiphanies about what had happened that day.  And from there everything gradually became clear.  There was NO option for me to NOT address my horse’s mental and emotional availability in order to accomplish the physical tasks I presented.

Which brings me to my most recent present day galloping.  With a refined sense of awareness and understanding of the horse, as I increase my horse’s speed, I want it to be a reflection of his brain.  Although the steps may be larger and faster, there still needs to be softness, lightness and balance.  If at any moment I drain all my energy, my horse needs to immediately halt balanced on his hindquarters, WITHOUT me pulling on his face.  If while cantering I feel him asking to drain into a slower gait, I need him to relax if my aid asks him to go forward, rather than pinning his ears or becoming defensive towards me.  The irony is the faster you go with quality, the slower it feels, and the more time it seems you have.

So I spend a lot of time going slow nowadays.  Very, very slow.   I mean slower than you’ve probably ever imagined asking your horse to go.  As in, one-step-at-a-time slow.   I always joke it takes me forever to go nowhere.  

In the long run, by the time I’m asking a horse to move forward, my goal is that the horse offers to do so with a willingness, confidence and availability, and perhaps that carefree romanticized version we all have in our heads of what galloping across a field felt like as a kid.

And the other day it happened.  I hadn’t planned on it, it hadn’t been my goal.  But there I was working with a horse that had come a long ways from his shut down, fearful, insecure self that I’d met a while back.  As we rolled up into a light canter, there was a moment, almost indescribable, but where you can “hear” the horse reaffirming he is okay.  So I asked for a larger stride, and as my seat instinctively lifted out of the saddle and I lowered my upper body, almost floating above the horse, I could feel us shift gears and we were off… He stretched out all 17 hands of himself and all I could feel was the softness of the gigantic stride below me.  Time stops in those moments.  Nothing else exists.  It is why we all ride.  It is the ultimate escape and emotional release for us humans.

As I slowed him back to a lovely trot, I realized my adrenaline had kicked in.  When I sat back down in the saddle I instantly felt my fatigued muscles quivering in my lower back and legs reminding of just how long it’d been since my last gallop.  So even if for the rest of the day my legs felt like Jello, I was still grinning, and so was the horse.  And to me, that is what the gallop is all about.

Sam

Horsemanship: A simple misunderstanding...

Horsemanship: A simple misunderstanding...

Although I teach throughout the USA, because of the rural location where I am based for the summer, there tends to be limited interaction of horse owners here in the inland northwest.  Often people are living on larger properties and are able to keep their equine partners at home rather than boarded at a facility, and most people only have a few “nice months” to enjoy quality time with their horse without weather being an issue.  As nice as it is for owners to look out the window and see their horse happily munching in the field, the lack of interaction with other horsey folks often creates an isolated feel.  Although most people would prefer riding with other equine enthusiasts, they end up working/riding their horse alone.  Or all too commonly a horse owner ends up riding with a group of horse people because they are the “only” option of people to ride with.  The group may not be respectful or sensitive to someone else’s (or their horse’s) ability, needs, etc., and can often over face a member of their group in how (speed, etc.) or where the ride occurs.

Assessment of a Trick Horse- Addressing the "holes"

As part of my duties here on the ranch in Texas, I have been asked to evaluate different horses… One horse in particular recently came up as an interesting “case and point” to my continually trying to show people just how many “holes” are present in most horse’s education. 

This particular horse was a half draft and half Quarter Horse, and for any little girl with romantic ideas of a horse galloping across the pasture with the wind blowing through its mane and tail, this was that horse, with her blond 2’ long mane and flowing tail…

I had been told this horse was bought because she was a “trick horse,” and the gal that mostly rode her in the past used her as a turn back horse for cutting, rode her on trails, etc.  Most other folks who knew the mare rolled their eyes at the mention of her and her “issues.”

I had seen a young gal ride the mare for a few weeks and said she was a little “looky” when riding out and about in the pastures, but never did anything bad.  That was about all I knew of the horse.

The first time I rode her I treated her like the rest of the horses here, not assessing her from my standards, but more from a mainstream rider’s perspective, the difference being the latter is solely focused on what the horse does for them, rather than what they can do for their horse.

I caught her (with grain,) led her (with her hanging on the lead rope walking very, very slowly with no regard as to how fast I wanted to walk.)  She stood quietly while I groomed her (but she did dramatically swing her head away anytime I got half way up her neck with a brush or my hand,) she was quiet while I saddled her, and stood while I mounted. 

She was relatively quiet as we rode out in the front pasture, and she was okay in general for not being ridden in a few weeks. She was bit heavy clamping her jaw down on the bit, didn’t really look where she was going, but would turn, walk, jog, lope, halt, etc. without much issue.  But asking her to stand for more than ten seconds really bothered her.  In the course of my 20 minute ride she blew her nose 27 times.  No joke.

A few days later, when the weather was warm and I had time, I decided to start working with her on “my terms.”  This meant asking her to be caught (in a several acre pasture with other loose horses around) without the bribery of grain.  She had just been switched with this “new herd” that clearly had no interest in having her be a part of their herd.

Often people ask me how catching a horse in the pasture differs from how I would work to get one’s attention in the round, and there is no difference other than the cardio workout I get!  Through spatial pressure, every time the mare focused on or tried something I did not want, I created just enough pressure to get her to quit doing whatever she was doing.  So she searched and searched… At first it was all “brainless” movement, meaning she’d gallop off, then stop and stare and try and think about what happened.  She was shocked the herd wouldn’t accept her, and she was shocked at my behavior, or lack thereof.  I would create just enough pressure to influence her, but was not “busy” with lots of moving or walking around the pasture.  I wasn’t trying to “corner her” into submission to be caught, and I wasn’t trying to micromanage her every movement.  I wanted her to take responsibility to come up with the “right” answer, in this case, presenting herself to me to be caught.

Galloping off, snorting, pawing, and rolling, whinnying, passing manure twice, her emotionally charged reactions showed just how bothered this horse was.  Eventually after circling closer and closer to me, turning and facing me, creeping in behind me, blowing her nose, licking her lips and chewing and dropping her head, she finally came over and stood quietly next to me.

Instead of haltering her I just stood, not touching her, but allowing her to recognize that when she “found” what behavior I wanted, that I offered a quiet in my energy and behavior, allowing her time to “let down” and mentally process that it felt good to “be with me.”

Still without touching her I walked a few steps to my right and would pause, she’d turn and face and then creep a few steps following, though not convinced being with me was really going to be “okay” for her.  A few steps to the left… same thing.  Lots of pausing, and still not touching or haltering her to avoid me creating any physical pressure towards her. 

At this point something spooked the rest of the herd and off they bolted a mere 20’ from where we were.  The mare just stood calmly and watched, showing now desire to go flee with the herd.

Eventually I haltered her.  Then we just stood.  She breathed.  She licked.  She sighed.  She sighed again.  Blew her nose.  Then cocked a rear foot and dropped her head. 

Using the lead rope I asked her to look to her right, she looked shocked and confused.  I asked her to yield to the pressure of the rope when I drew her forward towards me or to step back.  She responded with a brace and locking up her entire body.  I asked her to drop her head by drawing the lead rope down towards the ground, she responded by trying to pop her head straight up in the air.  Hmm, some major basics in her initial education had been clearly missed.

Having no idea how she had been “trained” to do tricks, I thought I’d experiment for the moment and tapped her front left leg above her knee, with no response from her other than the whites of her eyes showing.  Then I picked up her same front leg, as if I were to clean her hoof, and as soon as I did I felt her relax, so I turned with my body facing her shoulder, and then held her cannon bone in my right hand, and used barely any pressure with the fingertips of my left hand to touch her left shoulder, and like putty, she quietly and quickly melted to the ground, folding her head between her front legs and gave me a deep bow dropping her left shoulder until it touched the ground.  She quietly waited until I released my hands and then stood up.  She blew her nose, and then looked at me with this expression that seemed to say “Finally you figured it out human!”

I removed her halter and she just stood there.  So I scratched at her withers until her muzzle wiggled showing her pleasure.  Then I walked off a few steps, and she followed.  We just stood for a while, and eventually I walked off and left her. 

The next day because weather and time permitted, I went out to the pasture, where she met me standing at the gate.  I caught her and headed over to the round pen, where I let her go, and as I had done on the previous day, offered her the opportunity to decide to be with me, even with the distraction of other turned out horses running around, tractors working nearby and dogs chasing one another.

She quickly sorted through her options and was happy to turn and face me, but closing the four foot “gap” between us, was a whole other issue.  Every time she stopped, she’d always have an “escape option”- meaning if I created too much pressure, she could whip around and leave.  So even though it looked like she was “with me,” she was still tolerating addressing me, rather than offering to be with me.  As the session progressed I communicated using basic spatial pressure, without a lot of running around by the mare, and she mentally and emotionally realized she had a choice to be with me.  She gradually offered more of herself, creeping in closer and closer.  Finally she offered to follow me all over the pen and stand quietly.

I knew touching her created a bit of anticipation and stress, just by barely touching her shoulder and watching her skin twitch and her entire body tense up.  So through physical pressure of my hand touching her a few seconds than removing it, then me walking off, I allowed her to make the choice to continue to be with me.  We continued this and I was able to touch more and more of her with more confidence from her that “it” would be okay.

Eventually I haltered her and we worked on looking left and right, yielding to the pressure of the lead rope as I drew her forward, backwards, or asked her head to come down.  Each response she offered had a softer and more thoughtful action. 

By the end of the session the wrinkles that had been above her eyes were gone, her head was low, and she was finally breathing at a normal rate.  She seemed totally shocked that the session ended when it did.

The funny part was there were two other horses I’d started working with in the past few weeks, and they were in a turnout next to us.  As my session progressed, the two loose horses kept coming over and leaving and coming over and leaving after watching for a few minutes.  By the last quarter of the session the loose horses stood at full attention quietly watching what I was doing with the mare in the round pen…  I wonder what they were thinking.

My approach when working with horses irreverent of their age or experience, is to offer the horse a clean slate no matter how much they have “done” or been trained because in my experience behavioral issues arise due to a lack of solid foundation and communication.  I am always amazed at “how much” stress horses experience on a regular basis caused by people who demand things of the animal all the while having a complete disregard towards what the horse is thinking or feeling.

At some point, the horse reaches their “breaking point” and although he may have tolerated doing a task that was asked of him, once he is pushed beyond his comfort zone, the dramatic responses appear, from an unwillingness to be caught, to a lack of ability to stand still, to spookiness, to dangerous behaviors.  There are only so many ways a horse can tell a person he is having a problem, and often the initial “quiet” ways the horse tries to convey his concern, fear or worry is ignored, and so he has to magnify his behavior until he can no longer be ignored.

So in the case of the mare I was working with, obviously a human had their own “agenda” without considering the horse or what she needed from the human to “feel better.”  Why did she “yield” and do the tricks?  I don’t know.  I still don’t understand why as many horses put up with people hammering away on them as they do.  But the real point here is to assess as I work with this horse and decipher what she needs from me, in order help her get mentally and emotionally quiet, so that she can physically relax when being worked with.

One last point that you may ask is, if she is so jumpy and tense, why would she get so quiet when she bowed?  My thought is that she probably discovered the only time she was “left alone” was when she complied by doing a trick.  So her willingness to do them is probably her way of finding an “okay” moment when near a human.

Filling in the "holes"

I’ve had a new horse come in for training and in between this crazy ongoing rain I head outside to work with him.  He is a four-year old that has had a lot of handling, though his owner’s experience is limited, she has gone “slow” with him…

Alternative Horsemanship with Samantha Harvey

In the Beginning…
I began riding with a focus on jumpers but quickly turned towards Three Day Eventing after a few cross-country rides. I loved the adrenaline rush of galloping up over hills, down through streams, and then out over huge fences! I left home at a young age to focus on training and competing: my riding brought me throughout the US and finally to England.
My Experiences…
Although my main focus was Three Day, I wanted to expand my field of knowledge and experience many different aspects of riding. I worked in Jumper and Dressage barns, schooling, conditioning, and training horses. I attended jockey school, and get to know the ins and outs of several race tracks.
I worked with international caliber competitors, trainers, and coaches with varied backgrounds throughout the US, and was able to experience all aspects of Three Day. I saw what it was like from a competitor’s standpoint, from the trainer’s standpoint, and from the Olympian’s standpoint. I found that the more I saw, the more frustrated I was with the lack of concern for the basics including both their horse and their own mental, emotional, and physical well-being.
I began to see a common trend with the intensity of focus lacking any original motivation of why they were riding and competing. The stresses, pressures, expectations, politics, and finances clouded their enjoyment and quality of the relationship with their equine mount.
I found myself disappointed and lacking motivation to continue towards the initial goal I had been working towards. So I left the sport.

Returning…
Even though I was not riding, I continued to stay in touch with friends from the equine world. My interest was slowly rekindled when I went as a spectator to an event in Kalispell, MT. I saw people who were riding for the pure enjoyment of the sport. This encouraged me to once again become involved with the sport. I was reacquainted with United States Pony Club, but this time as a trainer and District Commissioner, and I began to teach and ride again.
I also was reunited with a horseman who helped me re-evaluate the underlying basic thought and interaction with the horses.
Refining my own level of awareness, assessment, sensitivity, and timing has allowed me to find within myself and to also offer to others the tools and aids to clearly communicate with their horse to build a quality partnership whose foundation is built on respect and trust.
I now travel throughout the United States clinicing, training, and teaching. In July 2003 my business partner and I opened The Equestrian Center, LLC, in beautiful in Sandpoint, Idaho located in the panhandle of the state.
Present Day…
By now my experience has allowed me to step back and “see” more of the whole picture; I use a mixture of ideas and theories that have helped me define my own training and teaching style for both horses and students. My goal of achieving respect and communicating with horses before I get on them is a very important part of the actual ride. From watching, clinicing, and auditing with “horse whisperers” it soon became very clear that winning over a horse’s mind and becoming his friend on the ground would greatly improve the quality of my ride. I encourage riders of all experiences and disciplines to enjoy this blog!
To find out more visit my website at HERE