The Unforeseen Consequences of a Small Decision Every day we make dozens of decisions. Some of them are important decisions that affect the direction of our lives, like whether to go to college or who to marry. But most of the decisions we make on a daily basis are small decisions, what to eat or what to wear, and we don’t expect these small decisions to have much of an impact on our lives. Two summers ago, however, I made one of these small decisions and the result blindsided me. This is the story of that decision and its unforeseen consequences. When I retired for DuPont at the end of 2006, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do next. 2006 had been a difficult year for me. My father had died at the end of the summer after a 2 year battle with throat cancer. My mother and I had taken care of him while he was sick and it took a lot out of me. I stopped working at the end of the year tired and emotionally bruised. I thought that I wanted to do some kind of volunteer work but wasn’t really attracted to any of the opportunities that crossed my path until I heard about a horse rescue nearby. Located on the Sassafras River in Warwick, Maryland, Greener Pastures was a 160 acre farm that had been donated by its owner to the State of Maryland for use as an equine sanctuary. The operation had recently been taken over by a young woman from Delaware who, in addition to running the rescue, wanted to run programs for youth at risk. I loved horses and with my corporate background in coaching and counseling, I thought this might be just the place for me. After meeting with the director, I began working at the sanctuary three or four days a week. I was insanely happy. The rescue property was beautiful. In addition to the horses, it was home to a blue heron rookery and a nesting pair of bald eagles. The environment was just what I needed to restore my spirit from the death of my father. Besides that, I had always loved horses and the rescue was home to a group of retired thoroughbreds. Although they had been well fed under the previous director, they’d had little human interaction so they were cautious but curious about the new humans who were taking care of them. The director introduced me to Parelli by loaning me a set of the old level 1 program tapes and I was fascinated by what I was learning. I was essentially living out my childhood dream. My own horse Sonny was boarded at that time at a small stable in Fair Hill, Maryland. I’d had him for about a year when I began at the rescue and soon found myself spending more time with the rescue horses than with my own horse. The rescue and the barn in Fair Hill were in opposite directions from my house and each located about half an hour drive from home. The rescue director offered to let me board Sonny at the rescue but I didn’t want to take advantage of my position there so for about a year I declined her offer. The barn in Fair Hill was a great location for trail riding but it had neither a riding ring nor a round pen. As I became more interested in Parelli, I realized that I would make a lot more progress with Sonny if he was at the rescue so in the summer of 2007, I moved him there. Things were great at the rescue for a couple of years. I loved working there and being part of the effort of rescuing and finding homes for a number of horses. In the summer we had programs for children at risk and we hosted groups interested in our mission. During this time, I pursued my study of natural horsemanship by attending clinics and using the skills I was developing with the rescue horses. I was working to become the rescue’s horse specialist, focused on developing ground manners using my on line skills. Sonny and I had progressed through level 2 and were working on level 3 skills. We made good progress during the spring, summer and fall but in the winter it was difficult to practice consistently because of the weather and the footing in the arena. Then came the winter of 2009-2010 and Delaware was hit by a succession of storms, four of which had snowfall totals over 12 inches. I didn’t get down to the rescue for weeks at a time and our progress pretty much came to an abrupt halt. I was beginning to think about moving Sonny to a barn with an indoor arena so we could continue our development without worrying about weather issues but, because this was just a thought, I never mentioned the idea to the rescue’s director. Spring finally came to Delaware and with it, the rescue agreed to allow the New Castle Mounted Police to retire one of their Clydesdales at Greener Pastures. Ben was an eight year old gelding who was so stressed by his job that he had ulcers. The mounted unit had nursed him back to health a couple of times before recognizing that he just wasn’t cut out for police work and they asked if the rescue would take him. Our director saw it as an opportunity for good publicity so she readily agreed. Unfortunately for us, Ben was a carrier of strangles and shortly after he arrived, strangles broke out on the farm. It was a horrible time for the rescue. Strangles swept through the farm despite our best efforts to contain the outbreak. Two of the older, more immune compromised horses had to be humanely destroyed and many other horses had to be nursed back to health. At the same time, the one field of horses that remained free from the strangles outbreak was affected by alsike clover poisoning. Although all of the horses in that field were sickened, my Sonny was the worst. For fifty four days, with the help of our wonderful vet, I nursed him through his illness. Because he couldn’t be exposed to sunlight during that time, he had to be confined to a stall. To prevent the rescue from incurring any additional cost as a result of his illness, I purchased all of his bedding and hay. Between the strangles outbreak and Sonny’s illness, I was at our local Tractor Supply several times a week. On day I noticed an advertisement for a boarding farm that was located in Middletown, Delaware. I scribbled down the number before returning to the rescue with the supplies I had purchased. That evening I called the number and arranged to visit the facility. Rowan Farm was a medium sized boarding operation. Besides a large indoor arena, Rowan had a round pen, a riding arena and a dressage arena. I was impressed by how nicely everything was kept. The stalls were large and the pastures were not overcrowded. But best of all, from my perspective, was the fact that Rowan was located on the route I took every day when I drove from my house to the rescue. That meant that I could stop and see Sonny either on my way to or my way home from the rescue. It seemed like the perfect solution. I could continue my lessons with Sonny without having to worry about disruptions due to weather and at the same time the location ensured that it wouldn’t disrupt my work at the rescue. The decision to move Sonny there was a simple one. The next morning the director and I were sitting in the tack room discussing the day’s priorities. In passing, I mentioned that I was going to move Sonny to Rowan at the end of the month. To my surprise, she burst into tears. After we talked for a few minutes it dawned on me that she thought I was taking Sonny from the rescue because he had been sickened on the clover and that it meant I wouldn’t be volunteering any more. I was quick to assure her that was not the case and that I just wanted to have Sonny at a barn with an indoor arena so that I could continue with my natural horsemanship lessons through the winter. I told her that I intended to continue volunteering at the rescue just as I had done when Sonny was stabled in Fair Hill. In my mind, Sonny’s location and my work at the rescue were two different issues. Apparently the director didn’t see it the way I did and immediately her behavior toward me changed. For three years we had been in almost daily communication about the rescue but once I told her I was moving Sonny, she stopped contacting me about anything. She behaved as if I was abandoning my work at the rescue, mentioning to me several times that she hoped my new barn would appreciate me as much as she had. It happened so often in the three weeks before I moved Sonny that I finally snapped at her about it one day, almost yelling at her that where Sonny was boarded had absolutely no connection to my volunteering at the rescue and asking her if she would please just drop it. After that, I continued to try and work as if nothing had happened but it was clear that she was annoyed with me and it was making me very uncomfortable. Shortly after I had moved Sonny to Rowan, I received an e-mail notifying me that I had been accepted to Fast Track and given a scholarship. I was beyond excited. The first person I called was Jane Bartsch, my local Parelli instructor, and the second was the director of the rescue. Jane was just as excited as I was but the director’s reaction was cool. Since she had been the one who had initially introduced me to Parelli and we had even talked about the possibility of attending a course at the Parelli farm in Florida, I had expected she would have been enthusiastic and her lack of support took me by surprise. I was beginning to understand that moving Sonny away from the rescue had somehow negatively impacted our relationship, although I was at a loss to understand why. I decided that perhaps it would be best to just give it a little space, figuring that if I behaved as if nothing had changed; she would eventually come around to that position also. That fall was a busy one and between attending a Carol Coppinger camp, going on a family cruise to New England and Canada and getting ready for Fast Track, I didn’t have much time to worry about relationships at the rescue. Before I knew it, I had loaded Sonny on to a Brook Ledge trailer for his trip to Florida and I was in my car headed down the highway myself. Despite everything I had done to get ready, I wasn’t really prepared for how physically and emotionally draining Fast Track was going to be and I returned to Delaware at the beginning of December, happy but exhausted and not at all prepared for the Christmas holidays. By spring, my relationship with the director had stabilized. Although I did not enjoy the closeness that I once had, at least things were reasonably cordial. I continued to do ground work with the rescued horses but I was no longer included in much of the planning. My suggestions, which had been welcomed until the previous summer, were now mostly ignored. This had unfortunate consequences when one of the horses I had been working with was shown to a potential adopter. Chip was a sensitive horse that had been rescued the previous winter. He was skeptical of people and would go quickly RBI when pressed too hard or too quickly. When the director told me that a prospective adopter was going to look at him when I couldn’t be at the rescue, I told her that I didn’t think he was ready. She disagreed so I warned both her and the barn manager that Chip needed to be thoroughly warmed up on the ground before anyone rode him. The next time I came to the rescue, all anyone was talking about was how Chip had thrown the instructor when she tried to mount. She had injured her back as a result. When I asked if Chip had been properly warmed up I was curtly told that “we didn’t have time”. The previous year the rescue’s director had become coach to a local college western competition team and had developed a successful lesson program for children. I had never been involved in the teaching of riding lessons but that spring I often observed the classes and began to be concerned about the lack of natural horsemanship techniques that were being used in the lessons. Most of the children taking lesson were young girls and they were being taught to ride with a concentrated rein before they had developed a good independent seat. As a result, most of them balanced using the reins. I could see how that was affecting the horses being used for lessons. Several times I brought that up to the director but she didn’t seem to be interested. At one point we had a fairly heated discussion about the welfare of the horses being used in the lesson program. Eventually after one of my suggestions, this one about teaching the one rein stop, she told me flatly that she didn’t think she “liked Parelli” any more. That really threw me for a loop and I began to question whether I could continue to uphold the Parelli principles while working at the rescue. After that exchange, our relationship began to disintegrate. The director often wouldn’t speak to me at all and when she did, she was short or even rude. I asked the barn manager if she knew what was going on and all she could offer was that the director thought I was too critical of her. When I learned that, I stopped making any suggestions but that didn’t help. Finally, one afternoon, the director accused me of encouraging one of the rescue’s boarders to move to the barn where I was boarding Sonny. I was stunned that she would have thought me capable of that kind of behavior. Over the four years that I had worked for the rescue I had donated hundreds of hours of my personal time and well over a thousand dollars in financial and material resources. I could not believe that she could possibly think I would do anything that would threaten the welfare of the organization. I went to the rescue a few times after that but I now no longer even felt welcome. I was scheduled to have foot surgery that fall and after I had recovered from the surgery, I didn’t return to the rescue. Although I probably shouldn’t have been, I was very hurt by the director’s behavior toward me. I had thought we were friends but apparently I was mistaken. Eventually I was able to write the director a letter explaining why I was no longer going to volunteer. I told her that I would always be grateful to her for introducing me to Parelli and that while I respected her decision to take the rescue in a different direction, I didn’t feel that I could continue to work there and uphold my principles at the same time. I told her that I only wanted the best for the rescue and I wished her the best of luck in the future. It has been a little over a year since I was last at the rescue and I have thought long and hard about the sequence of events that led to my leaving. While there are some decisions I made while working at the rescue that I wish I had not made, moving Sonny isn’t one of them. It was the right thing to do for me and it was the right thing to do for Sonny. I sincerely wish that the rescue’s director had not reacted the way she did but Sonny and I have made so much progress since moving that I know it was the right decision. It turned out that Rowan is Parelli friendly barn and while there are only a couple of official Parelli students at the farm, almost everyone seems interested in some aspect of natural horsemanship. Some of the boarders have commented on the things they have seen me do with Sonny and others have asked me why I do what I do. More exciting for me is the fact that there are now three members of the Delaware State Police’s new mounted unit housed at the farm and I have been given the opportunity to work with these horses. I never thought when I decided to move Sonny to Rowan from the rescue that it would change the focus of my efforts. In fact, when I made the decision, it never occurred to me that it might have any impact other than accelerating my personal development. In fact, it was a simple decision that had a number of consequences I am not sure I ever could have anticipated. I miss working at the rescue and perhaps, at some point in the future, I will find another opportunity to work with horses at risk. But for now, I am happy that I have found a supportive environment for the development of my natural horsemanship skills and that I have several horse to play with. You can be very sure, however, that if I ever decide to move Sonny to a new farm, I will consider carefully even the most unlikely implications of that decision before I make the move.

The Walking Wounded My horse, Sonny, is pretty much of a disaster when it comes to injury and illness. I’ve had Sonny for seven years and so far he has cost me over $11,000 in vet bills. Now I know that owning a horse isn’t an inexpensive venture but I had my first horse, Max, for over 23 years and in all that time, I only had to call the vet out twice for something that wasn’t routine care. Sonny on the other hand, is good for some kind of a $500 vet visit about every six months and he is pretty inventive about his mishaps. Sonny’s first misadventure involved a puncture wound that was in such an odd spot, even the vet couldn’t figure out how he had managed to do it. I noticed some blood on Sonny’s front leg up near where his leg connects with his chest. After cleaning the blood, I discovered a puncture located on the inside of his right leg, in what would be our armpit. It was so deep that the vet was able to put her entire index finger inside the hole. She told me that if it had been a quarter inch further to the right, it would have punctured a major artery and he would have bled to death. Fortunately for me he didn’t but between vet visits and medicine, we’d had out first $500 event. Six months after that, he scratched his cornea, we think grazing in some tall grass, and ended up wearing an eye patch until it healed. That wasn’t his only eye injury. A few months after that, he was cantering inside of the round pen and somehow managed to get one hind leg over the lowest rail of the pen. During his struggle to get out, he permanently bent the pen and he whacked his head against the top rail. When he calmed down, I noticed he had cut himself below his right eye. The vet was called for that little adventure and we discovered another scratch on the cornea which resulted in a second stint in an eye patch. I was beginning to think I should be calling him “Pirate Pete”! Sonny’s next misadventure almost cost him his life. I was keeping him at the horse rescue where I was working at the time and he was pastured on a field that was fairly rich in clover. It had been a particularly wet spring and one day I noticed that his muzzle, which is white, was tinged orange. I didn’t think much of it at the time since the soil in these parts has a lot of red clay, but two days later, the rescue director called me and told me that Sonny’s nose was pretty sun burned. I went down to take a lot and what I saw shocked me. Although it was only May and it hadn’t been particularly hot, Sonny’s nose was burned and peeling. I call our vet, Dr. Cushing. He took one look at Sonny’s burnt and orange colored nose and thought right away that he looked a bit jaundiced. It turned out that Sonny had a case of alsike clover poisoning which had affected his liver function. Because the liver was compromised, he was no longer able to digest grass properly and photoactive chemicals were getting into his bloodstream. All of his white skin, where the blood vessels are close to the surface and there is little pigment to protect the skin, had suffered second degree burns. He was a mess. It took us 53 days of doctoring and confinement, during which time he wasn’t allowed to be in the sun. He was miserable (we both were) but he finally recovered. I moved Sonny to a new barn after that and the year after the alsike clover incident was relative trouble free. Then fourteen days before he was supposed to ship to Florida so I could attend the Fast Track course, I noticed a large lump on his sheath. Since shipping across state lines requires a clean bill of health, I called the vet. The lump turned out to be a pocket of infection, probably from a bug bite. Dr. Cushing opened the area and drained it. For days afterwards, I had to swab the opening with antiseptic , squeezing out some really vile looking gunk that gradually decreased until two days before we were scheduled to leave, he finally passed his vet check. For the seven years I have owned Sonny, he has had some on and off lameness problems. He is slightly crooked in the front and his right front foot is pretty upright. We’ve done multiple x-rays, which haven’t shown much in the way of navicular changes and managed the problem with supplements and occasional anti-inflammatory medicine. I have probably aggravated the problem as I progressed to level 3 work and spent more time with circling exercises both on line and when riding but the problem has always been manageable until 2012. I returned from vacation in March and discovered Sonny was lame. We treated, as usual, with Bute and he improved enough for me to attend a Carol Coppinger clinic but the problem proved to be persistent and in June, I finally had the vet come out to evaluate Sonny. Dr. Cushing blocked his right front foot and he immediately because sound so we proceeded with x-rays, which didn’t show much in the way of changes. A test for Lyme’s disease was negative so we assumed we were dealing with a soft tissue injury. With rest and a change in shoeing, Sonny was showing good improvement and I felt we were on the right track until I received a call from our barn manager one morning informing me that Sonny had come in from the field dead lame. When I say he was dead lame, I mean he didn’t want to walk. This was the kind of lameness that usually indicates an abscess. He was miserable. We treated him as if it was an abscess but when nothing developed in a couple of days, we called Dr. Cushing. Sonny didn’t show much sensitivity to the hoof tester and didn’t have much of a pronounced pulse in his hoof so Dr. Cushing put him on a course of Previcox and Recovery EQ. Slowly he began to improve and I thought we were out of the woods until I received another call from the barn manger to tell me that Sonny had ulcers all over his lips and inside his mouth. Really? I was beginning to wonder why I couldn’t catch a break with this horse. I was afraid that he was allergic to the medicine that seemed to be making him better so I called the vet. Dr. Cushing took one look at Sonny’s mouth and asked to see what kind of hay he was eating. The barn had recently taken delivery of some nice grass hay. Because Sonny had been confined either to his stall or the round pen while we were treating his foot injury, he had been eating a lot of this new hay and quite frankly, he loved it. Dr. Cushing looked at the hay and picked out some foxtail seed heads. He was pretty sure this was the culprit. Apparently some horses react to foxtail heads in just this way and of course, given Sonny’s predilection for unusual medical issues, he was sensitive. We changed Sonny’s hay, treated the ulcers with medicine and his mouth is now healed up. We are continuing to treat the lameness and new x-rays have revealed some arthritis so we have added injections to his regiment. I am hopeful that it will resolve enough for me to ride again at some point but have come to the conclusion that Sonny’s days as my levels horse have come to an end. I’ve been playing with him at liberty lately, not doing anything strenuous and he is feeling good enough that he offered to jump a fence the other day. I stopped him before he could but felt encouraged that he would offer. When you buy a horse, you don’t really know what the future will hold in terms of the animal’s health. With Sonny’s confirmation, I probably accelerated his arthritis when I started advancing in my Parelli work, but I am hopeful that by switching Sonny to trail riding, he and I can have many good years together. Given his history, I expect he will figure out some other original ways to injure himself so at this point, I have given the vet my credit card number. It is just easier that way!

Noticing the Smallest Change November and December were challenging months for me as my mother has been recovering from a serious surgery. Trips to the barn were a low priority and I didn’t have time to do much when I was there other than check on Sonny’s supplements and clean him up a bit. But Mom is now well enough to be left alone so yesterday I was happy to get down to the barn with enough time to actually play with a horse. Sonny is recovering from an ankle injury that also happened in November (it really was a bad month) so he can’t do much at the moment. Fortunately our barn is now host to several horses that are being used in a new Delaware State Police mounted patrol and their owners have invited me to play with the horses. So yesterday, I played with Jack. Jack is the center horse in the picture and when I first met him last summer, he reminded me of my first horse, Max. Both Jack and Max are RBI, although I didn’t know that when I bought Max. Max had been professionally trained. He was very obedient and tried very hard to do what I asked but he had no personality. When I would go into his stall he would just stand there looking away from me and tolerating whatever I wanted to do. I hadn’t heard of natural horsemanship when I bought Max but fortunately, I gave him just what he needed, lots of Friendly Game. I spent lots of time grooming him and, because I was a novice rider, took things nice a slow. Gradually, Max’s personality started to emerge and we formed a bond that lasted 23 years, until Max died at the age of 32. Jack is the spitting image of Max and like Max he is very obedient but he lacks any exuberance so the few times I have played with him in the past, I have focused on building a relationship. Yesterday, when I led him from the field, I noticed that he trailed along behind me, not pulling on the lead but not walking up next to my shoulder like a partner so I decided that the focus of my session would be to see if I could get him to be a little bit more connected. Jack lives in a field so he was blanketed with a heavy rug and a Lycra® under blanket. I had taken him into the indoor arena to play and it took a few minutes to wrestle him out of his clothing. At one point, I had to take his halter off to remove the hood and he stood next to me without moving but I could tell from his body language that he was not really relaxed. I groomed him for a few minutes, looking for itchy spots and watching his reaction. After a few minutes he was licking and chewing and occasionally looking in my direction. Since Jack is so compliant, I thought I might focus on something to increase his curiosity and started with the touch it game, driving from zone 3. The arena was sent up with a number of jumps and Jack would approach the jumps but was hesitant to go up and touch them. Rather than forcing the issue, when Jack had reached his threshold and stopped, I would then ask him to squeeze between me and the object. After a few squeezes, when I got a good lick and chew, I would then send him to the jump once more and most of the time he touched it with his nose. It was very windy yesterday and our indoor arena makes lots of interesting noises in the wind. In the beginning of the session, Jack was very distracted by the wind noises and he would throw his head up and orient toward the noise. As our session progresses, he became more relaxed and more focused on me. After about 20 minutes, I took Jack over to the mounting block to play. The mounting block in our arena a three step monster that is about waist high on most people. I sent Jack over to the block and waited for him to touch it with his nose. Then I climbed up to the top step of the block. This put me quite a bit higher with than Jack’s head and he was clearly uncomfortable with that. Through approach and retreat, Jack was finally able to come and stand next to the block with me towering over him and he allowed me to stroke him all over while standing calmly. I played with Jack for about an hour before wrestling him back into his body liner and rug. There had been a lot of licking and chewing and by the end of our session, Jack had even given me a good blow out and a yawn or two, all good signs. But the best sign that I had made some progress was the difference in Jack’s position and body posture as I walked him back to his field. Rather than dragging along behind me as he had done coming in, Jack walked at my shoulder, ears pricked, stepping along at the same pace. When I stopped, he stopped at my shoulder and even gave me two eyes in a tiny bit of a question. And when I removed his halter in the field, he stayed right with me while I gave him a good scratch on the neck. Before I discovered natural horsemanship, I looked for big shifts in my horse’s performance to tell me I was making progress. I probably wouldn’t have noticed any of these little changes, the shifts in body position, the licking and chewing, the yawning or blowing. But when a RBI is as obedient and compliant as my Max was or as Jack, is it is these little changes that tell indicate you’re on the right track. It is these little changes that tell you the relationship is getting stronger and the horse is getting more confident. Building the skill to recognize these little changes is one of the things that makes me a better horseman, and I know by the way Jack stayed with me when I turned him out yesterday, that he recognized it too.