One of the things I like best about studying Parelli Natural Horsemanship™ is the emphasis on continuous learning. I’ve always loved horses but I never thought I could learn how to be my own horse trainer. My first horse, Max, had been professionally trained and if I could even approximate the correct aid, he would immediately respond. But Sonny hadn’t had much training when I bought him four years ago and the only thing he did really well (besides eating or course!) was to go forward in a more or less straight line. Sometimes I’m not sure which one of us is learning more but last week, I gained some real insight about the concept of “following a feel”.
I’d like to tell you that I had this insight all on my own but the truth of the matter is that I had a great deal of help from my friend Jane Bartsch. Jane has been studying Parelli™ for quite a while now and she has been a real source of encouragement to me since I began studying a couple of years ago. In fact, it was watching what Jane could do with her mare that gave me hope studying Parelli™ could help me build a better relationship with Sonny.
Recently Jane finished a twelve week extern program at the Parelli Center in Florida and I have been the beneficiary of a couple of free lessons since she returned. Two weeks ago she introduced Sonny and I to the task of driving from zone 5. Using my new 45’ line, Jane fashioned two long reins and showed me how to use them. Soon I was positioned in zone 5 and with a little encouragement, Sonny was walking hesitantly forward. He kept checking behind him and he wasn’t steering very well but he was going forward.
“OK, now ask him to stop.” Jane called to me.
I stopped dead in my tracks, clamping down on the lines in my hands. This jerked at Sonny and he turned sideways in confusion.
“He’s not sure what you want when you pull at him like that,” Jane said. “Just stop yourself and close your hands slowly on the lines. Let him follow the feel.”
I asked Sonny to go forward again and when I stopped this time, instead of clamping down on the reins, I closed my fingers more slowly, increasing the pressure but letting the lines slip through my hands, sighing loudly as I did. Sonny took a step or two after I stopped and then he stopped and lowered his head, following the weight of the lines. So that’s what it means to get Sonny to follow a feel I though to myself. I get it.
Turns out that I hadn’t really understood the concept as well as I thought I had. Last week, while working on getting Sonny to change direction at a trot, I found myself stuck again. Sonny was trotting smartly along in a circle but when he passed my shoulder and I started to back up he would turn to face me and then stop dead, bracing against the line. Jane was sitting on the fence watching. After a couple of tries that ended up with Sonny and I engaged in a tug of war, I looked up at her in frustration and shrugged. “What am I doing wrong?”
“You’re pulling on him too hard,” Jane said. “Close your hands more slowly as you back up and wait until he is looking at you before you redirect him. You’re not giving him a chance to follow the feel.”
I brought Sonny into me and then backed him up and sent him out again on the circle. After he’d trotted a couple of laps, I started to back up, letting the line run slowly through my hands. Sonny continued to trot but his head came around and he looked at me. I looked in the new direction, led with the line in my hand and raised the carrot stick in my other hand. With only a slight hesitation that resulted in a single walking step, Sonny changed directions and was off again at a trot.
“You have to remember,” Jane said, “that Sonny can feel subtle changes in the 45’ line because of its lighter weight. You want him to follow that feel but you have to give him a chance to react to it.’
This is my new insight. I had thought following a feel had more to do with what Sonny was feeing at his end of the line, but Jane helped me see that it also has to do with what I am feeling at my end of the line. When I clamp down on the line, it’s like I am yelling at Sonny but when I close my hands slowly it more like I am whispering to him. The softer the feel I have of the line, the more able Sonny is to respond positively without bracing. Following a feel is as much about leading as it is about following. When Sonny is following the feel of the line, I am following the feel of Sonny.
I’m glad that Jane went through the Parelli™ extern program. I’ve learned a lot watching DVDs and going to the occasional clinic but I know I am going to learn a lot faster now that I have a Parelli™ professional in my own backyard and I’m sure Sonny is going to appreciate it. I can see that he is already happier now that we are both “learning how to follow a feel”.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Zen of Lawn Mowing
A horse-owning friend of mine once said that there are only about a dozen days a year in Delaware when conditions are ideal for riding a horse. Most days it is either too cold or too hot or the ground is too hard or too soft or the horse is shedding or the flies are biting or the footing is bad, etc. Anyway I am sure you get the idea. Right now we seem to be in the middle of the “too cold” phase and after living here for over 40 years I think maybe there are more than a dozen days but I can say without reservation that there has never been a perfect day in January! Right now I am desperate for even a hint of spring, a warm breeze or a few daffodils would do nicely
Spring might be my favorite season at the horse rescue. Situated along the Sassafras River near Warwick, Maryland Greener Pastures has an ideal location for experiencing a range of wildlife. The property is rimmed with a fringe of undisturbed hardwood forest, providing nesting places for birds and plenty of cover for the animals. In the spring, the sanctuary hosts a great blue heron rookery along the river. Building large stick nests high in the trees along the river, the herons may be the rescue’s noisiest seasonal visitors, calling to one another and defending their nest with loud, raspy croaking. It is a primitive and scary call. The rescue’s nesting pair of bald eagles is also much in evidence in the spring, hustling to find food for their growing chicks. Red tailed hawks and turkey buzzards can be seen soaring over the trees and fields. There is a resident herd of deer in the area and a number of small to medium sized animals, including fox, raccoon, rabbits, possum and groundhogs can be found in the area.
But the very best thing about the coming of spring is the greening of our horse pastures and hay fields with the new growth. The horses revel in the appearance of the sweet, tender shoots. It must be like candy for them because when the grass starts coming in, many of the horses will forgo coming into the paddocks for their twice daily grain, preferring instead to continue to grazing on the new grass. It is also brings a sweet treat for me because with spring, come mowing season.
There is something about spending hours driving a lawn tractor that appeals to me. I’m not exactly sure what causes me to enjoy it so much. It could be the smell of fresh mown grass, or the sports car like maneuverability of the zero turn tractor platform or the wind on my face or the joy of singing at the top of my lungs knowing that the noise of the tractor will drown out my voice and one will be offended by my off key renditions of pop tunes. What I do know with utter certainty is that spending time on the lawn tractor provides me with an opportunity for contemplation that can be meditative in nature, creating a sense of peace and tranquility that is hard to find in today’s hectic environment.
Once the grass starts to grow, mowing the horse pastures is a task that will continue to mid-summer. The rescue has approximately 60 acres in horse pasture which requires mowing every two to three weeks in order to minimize weed growth and help maintain even grazing across the pasture. Keeping the grass from getting too deep also helps to manage ticks and poison ivy. So the work of mowing becomes a spring priority with each pasture taking from four to six hours to complete.
Driving the zero-turn mower in the horse pasture is not a mindless activity and requires constant attention to detail. The pasture ground is not flat and the area along the fence lines can be littered with fallen branches which could, if run over, damage the mower blades. But driving the tractor is a peaceful activity and provides ample opportunity for observing the nature in an up close and personal way. When the grass is long enough, it can conceal a remarkable variety of wildlife so staying alert to unnatural undulations in the grass is paramount to spotting and avoiding unprotected birds and animals.
Driving the tractor I have scared up snakes, turtles, small birds, groundhogs and possums. One afternoon, I spotted a fox, moving two kits out of the field. Another afternoon, I spotted a doe acting strangely. Usually the sound of the tractor will cause deer to sprint across the fields and leap out over the fences, but this doe would run a short distance, stop to look back toward the noise, then change direction and run another short distance. After she had made a complete rectangle, she ended up back where I had first seen her. The grass was quite deep so I stopped the tractor and walked slowly toward where she was standing, when I got close enough, I could see a tiny faun curled up in the grass at her feet. My approach caused the deer to bound away, but the faun never moved, lying statue-like where its mother had placed it for safety.
I always cut in a circular pattern, moving counter clockwise around the field, starting close to the fence and moving inward with each circuit. This allows the mower to throw the cut grass away from the mowing path. The horses are generally unperturbed by the presence or noise of the mower and in fact, exhibit quite a bit of curiosity when the mower is stopped, surrounding and sniffing it . At times, I’ve had to get off the mower to chase them away before starting off again.
But the best thing about mowing the fields is the opportunity for contemplation. Riding atop the mower, every sense engaged and alive, is the perfect place to consider how very lucky I am at 62 to be living out my childhood dream of working with horses. If enlightenment can be achieved through the use of meditation, self-contemplation and intuition, then surely, mowing the pastures is my road to self-awareness.
Spring might be my favorite season at the horse rescue. Situated along the Sassafras River near Warwick, Maryland Greener Pastures has an ideal location for experiencing a range of wildlife. The property is rimmed with a fringe of undisturbed hardwood forest, providing nesting places for birds and plenty of cover for the animals. In the spring, the sanctuary hosts a great blue heron rookery along the river. Building large stick nests high in the trees along the river, the herons may be the rescue’s noisiest seasonal visitors, calling to one another and defending their nest with loud, raspy croaking. It is a primitive and scary call. The rescue’s nesting pair of bald eagles is also much in evidence in the spring, hustling to find food for their growing chicks. Red tailed hawks and turkey buzzards can be seen soaring over the trees and fields. There is a resident herd of deer in the area and a number of small to medium sized animals, including fox, raccoon, rabbits, possum and groundhogs can be found in the area.
But the very best thing about the coming of spring is the greening of our horse pastures and hay fields with the new growth. The horses revel in the appearance of the sweet, tender shoots. It must be like candy for them because when the grass starts coming in, many of the horses will forgo coming into the paddocks for their twice daily grain, preferring instead to continue to grazing on the new grass. It is also brings a sweet treat for me because with spring, come mowing season.
There is something about spending hours driving a lawn tractor that appeals to me. I’m not exactly sure what causes me to enjoy it so much. It could be the smell of fresh mown grass, or the sports car like maneuverability of the zero turn tractor platform or the wind on my face or the joy of singing at the top of my lungs knowing that the noise of the tractor will drown out my voice and one will be offended by my off key renditions of pop tunes. What I do know with utter certainty is that spending time on the lawn tractor provides me with an opportunity for contemplation that can be meditative in nature, creating a sense of peace and tranquility that is hard to find in today’s hectic environment.
Once the grass starts to grow, mowing the horse pastures is a task that will continue to mid-summer. The rescue has approximately 60 acres in horse pasture which requires mowing every two to three weeks in order to minimize weed growth and help maintain even grazing across the pasture. Keeping the grass from getting too deep also helps to manage ticks and poison ivy. So the work of mowing becomes a spring priority with each pasture taking from four to six hours to complete.
Driving the zero-turn mower in the horse pasture is not a mindless activity and requires constant attention to detail. The pasture ground is not flat and the area along the fence lines can be littered with fallen branches which could, if run over, damage the mower blades. But driving the tractor is a peaceful activity and provides ample opportunity for observing the nature in an up close and personal way. When the grass is long enough, it can conceal a remarkable variety of wildlife so staying alert to unnatural undulations in the grass is paramount to spotting and avoiding unprotected birds and animals.
Driving the tractor I have scared up snakes, turtles, small birds, groundhogs and possums. One afternoon, I spotted a fox, moving two kits out of the field. Another afternoon, I spotted a doe acting strangely. Usually the sound of the tractor will cause deer to sprint across the fields and leap out over the fences, but this doe would run a short distance, stop to look back toward the noise, then change direction and run another short distance. After she had made a complete rectangle, she ended up back where I had first seen her. The grass was quite deep so I stopped the tractor and walked slowly toward where she was standing, when I got close enough, I could see a tiny faun curled up in the grass at her feet. My approach caused the deer to bound away, but the faun never moved, lying statue-like where its mother had placed it for safety.
I always cut in a circular pattern, moving counter clockwise around the field, starting close to the fence and moving inward with each circuit. This allows the mower to throw the cut grass away from the mowing path. The horses are generally unperturbed by the presence or noise of the mower and in fact, exhibit quite a bit of curiosity when the mower is stopped, surrounding and sniffing it . At times, I’ve had to get off the mower to chase them away before starting off again.
But the best thing about mowing the fields is the opportunity for contemplation. Riding atop the mower, every sense engaged and alive, is the perfect place to consider how very lucky I am at 62 to be living out my childhood dream of working with horses. If enlightenment can be achieved through the use of meditation, self-contemplation and intuition, then surely, mowing the pastures is my road to self-awareness.
Friday, January 22, 2010
A Lesson In Humility
One of the things that I value most about Parelli Natural Horsemanship™ is the emphasis on building savvy in order to be safe. Working with horses can be hazardous if you don’t know what you are doing and even if you are experienced, a lapse in concentration or attention can result in an unsafe situation developing with potentially disastrous consequences. Earlier this year, I experienced such a situation when working with one of our rescue horses, Beau.
Beau started his life when a thoroughbred stallion escaped one day and bred a local mare. When the mare’s owner didn’t want the result of this liaison, he was rescued by our director Elena. Beau was pretty young when he came to SummerWinds but now he is a big bay gelding with a white blaze. The first horse to come over when you enter his field, Beau loves attention. He can be pushy and often crowds you when you are working with him so it is easy to think his is confident. But Beau is often a worried boy and when frightened, his first reaction is to come forward and right over anyone who happens to be in the way.
I started working with Beau when I was first learning about Parelli™ but he was adopted before I had gotten very far in my own training so I hadn’t made much progress with him and didn’t have a real good feel for his Horsenality™. He was gone for about a year when the economy went south. Beau’s new owners called Elena and asked her if she could take him back because they could no longer afford to keep him. While he had been away, Beau had been used as a trail horse and according to his owner, done very well.
Soon after he returned and before we could resume Parelli™ training with Beau, Meredith, one of our new volunteers fell in love with him and began to sponsor him. Meredith is a kind and caring person and a pretty decent rider. She liked to take Beau out on the trails but immediately noticed he wouldn’t stand still for her to mount when she was using the mounting block. As soon as she would get up on the block, he would move his rear end away. If someone held Beau, blocking his movement, Meredith could get up on him but it was clear that he was uncomfortable when anyone stood up on the block.
Several of us tried to help Meredith with this problem. Amy, a former jockey who was exercising our horses for us at the time, worked extensively with Beau, trying to get him to stand while she mounted. She made some progress but the problem persisted. Although Meredith wasn’t studying Parelli, I had her play the friendly game from the block using approach and retreat. She would get on the bottom step and rub Beau all over until he relaxed and then she would retreat. Then she would get on the second step and rub him until he relaxed. Then we would saddle him up and repeat the friendly game. Things improved somewhat but the problem still wasn’t resolved and it was becoming increasingly stressful for Meredith.
Finally one day, I was working with a horse in the round pen and Meredith had taken Beau up to the riding ring for a ride. She was gone quite a long time and when she came back, I asked how her ride had been.
“I didn’t ride,” she said. “He wouldn’t let me get on!”
I could tell that she was really frustrated and I wanted to help. I had taught my own horse, Sonny to stand still at the mounting block by backing him up whenever he moved away and suggested to Meredith that we give that a try with Beau. I wasn’t thinking at the time about how different in temperament Sonny and Beau were or how this approach might affect Beau.
By this time Amy had come to join us so the three of us were around Beau. Meredith tried to mount and Beau moved. I backed him up several steps. We repositioned the block, Meredith tried to mount again and again Beau moved and I back him up. The third time, Amy went over to Beau’s off side to keep him straight. Meredith put her foot in the stirrup and mounted successfully. I was standing at Beau’s head and he was crowding me so I asked him sharply to move back again out of my space. But this time, instead of stepping backwards, Beau came forward right into me.
He hit me directly in the chest with his chest knocking me to the ground. His hooves struck a glancing blow to my left leg below my knee and he stepped on my right foot as he came forward. In an instant I was directly underneath him. Fortunately Meredith remained calm. Beau seemed astonished to find a person directly under his belly and was doing his level best not to step on me. I scuttled sideways like a crab scooting out from under him and landed a few feet away still sitting on my butt. My legs were scrapped and bleeding and a golf ball sized swelling immediately appeared on the inside of my left leg at the top of my calf but otherwise I was in one piece.
After I caught my breath, I washed the blood from my legs. My shins were skinned but the wounds appeared to be superficial. More concerning was the lump on my leg which seemed to be growing in size as I watched. I called it a day and retreated home where I put ice packs on both legs and sat down to think about what had happened. I knew I had been very lucky that I wasn’t more seriously hurt. Other than sore muscles and some very spectacular bruising that ran down both legs and across one foot, I was fine, but I knew that if Beau had stepped on me when I was underneath him, I could have easily found myself with a broken leg or worse.
Reflecting on what had happened, I knew the fault was mine, not Beau’s. At the time, I was more concerned about Meredith’s frustration than I was about Beau’s readiness to be mounted. We were working in an area that Beau would have found claustrophobic. While he was outside the gate for the fence enclosing our round pen area, immediately on the left was a pile of gravel and on the right was a parked car. When I backed Beau up, I was backing him closer to the fence into an area where his movement was restricted. We also had placed a person to either side of him which would have made him feel even more claustrophobic. After Meredith had successfully mounted, I should have released the bridle and stepped away but instead, I asked Beau to back up again. I should have anticipated that he might react by pushing forward but I didn’t take the time to think about it. Neither my actions nor my thoughts had shown any evidence of savvy.
Recognizing that my lack of savvy had nearly gotten me seriously hurt and that I didn’t have a clue as to what to do next, I asked my instructor to give me a lesson centered around Beau’s mounting issues. She started by assessing his horsenality (right brain introvert) and reviewing the dos and don’ts of working with a right brain horse. She then showed me how to get Beau to think about the mounting block as a safe and comfortable place by making him work around it in a circle whenever he moved away from the block, but letting him rest next to it when he stood still. In less than 30 minutes, she had him standing quietly next to the block while she mounted him.
All in all, the incident was a lesson in humility. I’ve come to realize how important it is to think things through before trying something and how important it is to understand and consider Horsenality™ in choosing my approach. I’m much more aware of my surroundings, trying to see them from the point of view of a prey animal and before every session, I try to think specifically about what I need to do to ensure my own safety and the safety of the horse I am working with.
As for Beau, I’ve come to appreciate his natural tendency to worry about things and have changed my approach to working with him. I take things slow and steady with a lot of approach and retreat. I am much more tuned into his body language and try to be quicker to respond to the signals he is giving me. As a result, he is gaining confidence and becoming braver.
Beau started his life when a thoroughbred stallion escaped one day and bred a local mare. When the mare’s owner didn’t want the result of this liaison, he was rescued by our director Elena. Beau was pretty young when he came to SummerWinds but now he is a big bay gelding with a white blaze. The first horse to come over when you enter his field, Beau loves attention. He can be pushy and often crowds you when you are working with him so it is easy to think his is confident. But Beau is often a worried boy and when frightened, his first reaction is to come forward and right over anyone who happens to be in the way.
I started working with Beau when I was first learning about Parelli™ but he was adopted before I had gotten very far in my own training so I hadn’t made much progress with him and didn’t have a real good feel for his Horsenality™. He was gone for about a year when the economy went south. Beau’s new owners called Elena and asked her if she could take him back because they could no longer afford to keep him. While he had been away, Beau had been used as a trail horse and according to his owner, done very well.
Soon after he returned and before we could resume Parelli™ training with Beau, Meredith, one of our new volunteers fell in love with him and began to sponsor him. Meredith is a kind and caring person and a pretty decent rider. She liked to take Beau out on the trails but immediately noticed he wouldn’t stand still for her to mount when she was using the mounting block. As soon as she would get up on the block, he would move his rear end away. If someone held Beau, blocking his movement, Meredith could get up on him but it was clear that he was uncomfortable when anyone stood up on the block.
Several of us tried to help Meredith with this problem. Amy, a former jockey who was exercising our horses for us at the time, worked extensively with Beau, trying to get him to stand while she mounted. She made some progress but the problem persisted. Although Meredith wasn’t studying Parelli, I had her play the friendly game from the block using approach and retreat. She would get on the bottom step and rub Beau all over until he relaxed and then she would retreat. Then she would get on the second step and rub him until he relaxed. Then we would saddle him up and repeat the friendly game. Things improved somewhat but the problem still wasn’t resolved and it was becoming increasingly stressful for Meredith.
Finally one day, I was working with a horse in the round pen and Meredith had taken Beau up to the riding ring for a ride. She was gone quite a long time and when she came back, I asked how her ride had been.
“I didn’t ride,” she said. “He wouldn’t let me get on!”
I could tell that she was really frustrated and I wanted to help. I had taught my own horse, Sonny to stand still at the mounting block by backing him up whenever he moved away and suggested to Meredith that we give that a try with Beau. I wasn’t thinking at the time about how different in temperament Sonny and Beau were or how this approach might affect Beau.
By this time Amy had come to join us so the three of us were around Beau. Meredith tried to mount and Beau moved. I backed him up several steps. We repositioned the block, Meredith tried to mount again and again Beau moved and I back him up. The third time, Amy went over to Beau’s off side to keep him straight. Meredith put her foot in the stirrup and mounted successfully. I was standing at Beau’s head and he was crowding me so I asked him sharply to move back again out of my space. But this time, instead of stepping backwards, Beau came forward right into me.
He hit me directly in the chest with his chest knocking me to the ground. His hooves struck a glancing blow to my left leg below my knee and he stepped on my right foot as he came forward. In an instant I was directly underneath him. Fortunately Meredith remained calm. Beau seemed astonished to find a person directly under his belly and was doing his level best not to step on me. I scuttled sideways like a crab scooting out from under him and landed a few feet away still sitting on my butt. My legs were scrapped and bleeding and a golf ball sized swelling immediately appeared on the inside of my left leg at the top of my calf but otherwise I was in one piece.
After I caught my breath, I washed the blood from my legs. My shins were skinned but the wounds appeared to be superficial. More concerning was the lump on my leg which seemed to be growing in size as I watched. I called it a day and retreated home where I put ice packs on both legs and sat down to think about what had happened. I knew I had been very lucky that I wasn’t more seriously hurt. Other than sore muscles and some very spectacular bruising that ran down both legs and across one foot, I was fine, but I knew that if Beau had stepped on me when I was underneath him, I could have easily found myself with a broken leg or worse.
Reflecting on what had happened, I knew the fault was mine, not Beau’s. At the time, I was more concerned about Meredith’s frustration than I was about Beau’s readiness to be mounted. We were working in an area that Beau would have found claustrophobic. While he was outside the gate for the fence enclosing our round pen area, immediately on the left was a pile of gravel and on the right was a parked car. When I backed Beau up, I was backing him closer to the fence into an area where his movement was restricted. We also had placed a person to either side of him which would have made him feel even more claustrophobic. After Meredith had successfully mounted, I should have released the bridle and stepped away but instead, I asked Beau to back up again. I should have anticipated that he might react by pushing forward but I didn’t take the time to think about it. Neither my actions nor my thoughts had shown any evidence of savvy.
Recognizing that my lack of savvy had nearly gotten me seriously hurt and that I didn’t have a clue as to what to do next, I asked my instructor to give me a lesson centered around Beau’s mounting issues. She started by assessing his horsenality (right brain introvert) and reviewing the dos and don’ts of working with a right brain horse. She then showed me how to get Beau to think about the mounting block as a safe and comfortable place by making him work around it in a circle whenever he moved away from the block, but letting him rest next to it when he stood still. In less than 30 minutes, she had him standing quietly next to the block while she mounted him.
All in all, the incident was a lesson in humility. I’ve come to realize how important it is to think things through before trying something and how important it is to understand and consider Horsenality™ in choosing my approach. I’m much more aware of my surroundings, trying to see them from the point of view of a prey animal and before every session, I try to think specifically about what I need to do to ensure my own safety and the safety of the horse I am working with.
As for Beau, I’ve come to appreciate his natural tendency to worry about things and have changed my approach to working with him. I take things slow and steady with a lot of approach and retreat. I am much more tuned into his body language and try to be quicker to respond to the signals he is giving me. As a result, he is gaining confidence and becoming braver.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Everything I Know About Leadership I Learned From My Horse
I worked for the DuPont Company for 28 years, managing a number of different groups and over that time, I thought I had learned a lot about leadership. After I retired in 2007, I started working at the Greener Pastures Horse Sanctuary in Warwick, Maryland. At the rescue, I learned about and began studying Parelli™ Natural Horse-Man-Ship™. From Parelli™, I began to understand the language of horses and discovered, much to my great surprise, that horses are a lot smarter than I thought they were. In fact, I’ve come to realize that almost everything I know about leading people, I learned from my horse.
Be Friendly – It Builds Trust
My first horse, Max, taught me a lot about how to work with people. Without a doubt, the most important lesson I learned was that being genuinely friendly was the fastest way to build a good working relationship. Max had been abandoned by his owner; a college coed who had brought Max with her to the University of Delaware then met a boy, fell in love and stopped paying Max’s board. When I bought him, he didn’t seem to have much of a personality. But he was my first horse and I loved him with a passion. I would spend hours with him, grooming him, playing with him and feeding him carrots. Slowly but surely, his personality began to emerge. When he heard my voice, he would put his head out of his stall door and whinny to me. If I came to the pasture, he would hurry to the fence looking for treats. Even though I was an inexperienced rider, he always gave me his best.
Looking back, I can see now that all of the hours I spent grooming Max, just being friendly, had communicated to him that I was genuinely interested in his welfare and I wasn’t going to hurt him. With me, he could feel safe and because he was safe, he could give me his best.
The same is true with people. As a leader, you can’t always please everyone, but you can genuinely care about the people who work for you as individuals. The key here is to be genuine and authentic when you interact with people, taking the time to get to know them as a person. When people know you care about them, it is easier for them to feel safe with you. They will go the extra mile or to take a risk. It is easier for them to ask for help and learn from their mistakes because they will not fear retribution. Being genuinely friendly pays dividends.
Speak like a Native
My current horse, Sonny, can be a bit headstrong. When I first got him, I noticed that he would often bump into me when I was leading him. I would try to stay out of his way and the behavior didn’t seem to be mean-spirited but it was almost like he didn’t notice I was there.
I’d had Sonny a year or so before I started studying Parelli™. The first time I played the Parelli games with him, I was astonished at his reaction. His attention was riveted on me. Head up, ears forward, he looked like he was asking, “What did you just say to me?” I laughed and for the first time realized that I had been trying to talk to him in a foreign language. Once I switched from the language of people to the language of horses, Sonny and I were able to communicate. I could ask him to please stay out of my space and he did. There was no more bumping into me, unintentionally or otherwise.
To be an effective leader, you need to be able to speak to people in their own language. In DuPont, where I worked, you needed to “talk technical”. I was trained as a chemist but I worked with lots of engineers and they had their own language. To be effective, I had to learn to speak “engineer”. Being a women, I also had to learn how to navigate in a male dominated environment that also seemed to have language, verbal and non-verbal all of its own. All cultures and sub-cultures have languages and to work and live effectively in a particular culture, you need to be willing to learn and use the language.
Be Particular Without Being Critical
The other day I was trying to get Sonny to walk around me in a circle. Every time I asked him to start, he would walk a few steps and then start to trot. Every time he trotted, I would politely shake the line and ask him to walk. We must have done this a dozen times and he was getting annoyed, shaking his head and swishing his tail. It looked pretty disrespectful and I might have gotten angry but each time I would take a deep breath and ask politely again. Finally, he snorted, let out a big sigh and began to walk around me in a circle. By insisting politely without getting angry, being particular without being critical, I finally got the desired response.
As a leader, getting the performance you need often requires making corrections. People are often embarrassed when mistakes are pointed out to them, particularly if they sense any judgment or anger in what they often perceive as criticism. But most people want to do a good job and appreciate correction that is delivered in an objective, non-judgmental manner. Objective, non-judgmental feedback creates an opportunity for learning from potential mistakes and for improved performance. It also helps to build a better working relationship. There were times during my career when I had to deliver some difficult performance feedback. But by being specific and particular about both performance and expectations without being critical, I could created an environment for improvement, rather than a disgruntled employee.
Reward The Slightest Try
Three years ago we rescued a week old pony from the killer pens. This baby, who was named Noah, was sickly and required lots of attention as he was nursed back to health. As a result, he became more than a little spoiled and by the time we started his Parelli™ training, he was a bit of a brat. It is easy to get annoyed with Noah. He is pushy and stubborn and has been know to sneak a nip or a kick when you aren’t looking. But armed with the knowledge that pressure motivates but the release of pressure teaches, I committed myself to release at the smallest of effort on Noah’s part.
In the beginning, I wasn’t sure I was seeing much progress at all. But after several weeks, there was a noticeable change in Noah’s attitude. He was less pushy and more willing. He stopped trying to nip. Today Noah is trotting figure eights on line and has accepted a saddle and rider sitting on his back. I’m hopeful that he will someday be adopted into a loving home where he can be some child’s perfect pony.
In today’s business environment, it is easy to take the people who work for us for granted. As companies have downsized, workloads have increased. New and unfamiliar tasks can be overwhelming to people who are already under stress. One mistake leaders make is thinking that only extraordinary effort deserves recognition, but in reality, it is the everyday effort that needs to be acknowledged. Showing sincere appreciation even for everyday tasks, saying ‘thank you’ or ‘good job’ or even ‘nice try’ can be incredibly motivating.
Not Every Pony is a Good Cow Pony
My horse, Max, was a cow horse. When I first met him, he was in a pasture that also had a couple of calves. Max used to herd the calves. I would stand at the fence and watch him cut the calves away from the horses and drive them into a corner of the pasture. Max was built to be maneuverable. Being 7/8s thoroughbred, he was agile and quick and he could turn on a dime. His gaits were smooth as silk. Riding Max was like driving a fine sports car. But he was sensitive and could easily become unconfident in new situations.
My horse Sonny, on the other hand, was bred to be a halter horse. He is beautiful but not particularly agile. When I first got him, he couldn’t trot in a tight circle without tripping over his own feet. He wings his front feet at the trot and his canter is clunky. Riding Sonny is like driving a Hummer. When I first rode him in the ring I was a little disappointed in his performance because of his gaits but when I took him out into the woods I discovered that he is great on trails. Nothing bothers him, not wind or bad footing or deer jumping out into his path. And he can go all day long in unfamiliar environments without getting upset. Sonny will never be the elegant mover Max was but as a trail horse, he excels.
When leading people, it is important to remember that not everyone will be good at every job. During my years in industry, I frequently saw a person who was a good performer in one type of job perform less successfully when promoted to a different job. At times, this was a temporary situation that resulted from a lack of experience or training. But at other times, it was the result of a poor match between the person and the type of work. When time or training failed to turn the performance situation around, the employee could find himself in a downward performance spiral.
Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. As a leader, it was my job to understand this and place people in situations where their strengths could be utilized to the best advantage. Sometimes that meant guiding them into a different type of work or placing them on teams when their weaknesses could be compensated for by the strengths of others and their strengths could contribute to the success of the team. Trying to make a trail horse into a cutting horse is a recipe for failure with horses or people.
In retrospect, I wish I had known about Parelli™ Natural Horse-Man-Ship when I had started my career in industry. I can see now that my horses Max and Sonny taught me as much about being a good leader as my years in management positions. They taught me to look inside myself when things weren’t going as I had planned rather than to blame them. They taught me to be calm and patient and clear about what I was asking for. They taught me how to appreciate their strengths and compensate for my weaknesses. They taught me that being a successful leader is all about building strong relationships based on trust and respect
Be Friendly – It Builds Trust
My first horse, Max, taught me a lot about how to work with people. Without a doubt, the most important lesson I learned was that being genuinely friendly was the fastest way to build a good working relationship. Max had been abandoned by his owner; a college coed who had brought Max with her to the University of Delaware then met a boy, fell in love and stopped paying Max’s board. When I bought him, he didn’t seem to have much of a personality. But he was my first horse and I loved him with a passion. I would spend hours with him, grooming him, playing with him and feeding him carrots. Slowly but surely, his personality began to emerge. When he heard my voice, he would put his head out of his stall door and whinny to me. If I came to the pasture, he would hurry to the fence looking for treats. Even though I was an inexperienced rider, he always gave me his best.
Looking back, I can see now that all of the hours I spent grooming Max, just being friendly, had communicated to him that I was genuinely interested in his welfare and I wasn’t going to hurt him. With me, he could feel safe and because he was safe, he could give me his best.
The same is true with people. As a leader, you can’t always please everyone, but you can genuinely care about the people who work for you as individuals. The key here is to be genuine and authentic when you interact with people, taking the time to get to know them as a person. When people know you care about them, it is easier for them to feel safe with you. They will go the extra mile or to take a risk. It is easier for them to ask for help and learn from their mistakes because they will not fear retribution. Being genuinely friendly pays dividends.
Speak like a Native
My current horse, Sonny, can be a bit headstrong. When I first got him, I noticed that he would often bump into me when I was leading him. I would try to stay out of his way and the behavior didn’t seem to be mean-spirited but it was almost like he didn’t notice I was there.
I’d had Sonny a year or so before I started studying Parelli™. The first time I played the Parelli games with him, I was astonished at his reaction. His attention was riveted on me. Head up, ears forward, he looked like he was asking, “What did you just say to me?” I laughed and for the first time realized that I had been trying to talk to him in a foreign language. Once I switched from the language of people to the language of horses, Sonny and I were able to communicate. I could ask him to please stay out of my space and he did. There was no more bumping into me, unintentionally or otherwise.
To be an effective leader, you need to be able to speak to people in their own language. In DuPont, where I worked, you needed to “talk technical”. I was trained as a chemist but I worked with lots of engineers and they had their own language. To be effective, I had to learn to speak “engineer”. Being a women, I also had to learn how to navigate in a male dominated environment that also seemed to have language, verbal and non-verbal all of its own. All cultures and sub-cultures have languages and to work and live effectively in a particular culture, you need to be willing to learn and use the language.
Be Particular Without Being Critical
The other day I was trying to get Sonny to walk around me in a circle. Every time I asked him to start, he would walk a few steps and then start to trot. Every time he trotted, I would politely shake the line and ask him to walk. We must have done this a dozen times and he was getting annoyed, shaking his head and swishing his tail. It looked pretty disrespectful and I might have gotten angry but each time I would take a deep breath and ask politely again. Finally, he snorted, let out a big sigh and began to walk around me in a circle. By insisting politely without getting angry, being particular without being critical, I finally got the desired response.
As a leader, getting the performance you need often requires making corrections. People are often embarrassed when mistakes are pointed out to them, particularly if they sense any judgment or anger in what they often perceive as criticism. But most people want to do a good job and appreciate correction that is delivered in an objective, non-judgmental manner. Objective, non-judgmental feedback creates an opportunity for learning from potential mistakes and for improved performance. It also helps to build a better working relationship. There were times during my career when I had to deliver some difficult performance feedback. But by being specific and particular about both performance and expectations without being critical, I could created an environment for improvement, rather than a disgruntled employee.
Reward The Slightest Try
Three years ago we rescued a week old pony from the killer pens. This baby, who was named Noah, was sickly and required lots of attention as he was nursed back to health. As a result, he became more than a little spoiled and by the time we started his Parelli™ training, he was a bit of a brat. It is easy to get annoyed with Noah. He is pushy and stubborn and has been know to sneak a nip or a kick when you aren’t looking. But armed with the knowledge that pressure motivates but the release of pressure teaches, I committed myself to release at the smallest of effort on Noah’s part.
In the beginning, I wasn’t sure I was seeing much progress at all. But after several weeks, there was a noticeable change in Noah’s attitude. He was less pushy and more willing. He stopped trying to nip. Today Noah is trotting figure eights on line and has accepted a saddle and rider sitting on his back. I’m hopeful that he will someday be adopted into a loving home where he can be some child’s perfect pony.
In today’s business environment, it is easy to take the people who work for us for granted. As companies have downsized, workloads have increased. New and unfamiliar tasks can be overwhelming to people who are already under stress. One mistake leaders make is thinking that only extraordinary effort deserves recognition, but in reality, it is the everyday effort that needs to be acknowledged. Showing sincere appreciation even for everyday tasks, saying ‘thank you’ or ‘good job’ or even ‘nice try’ can be incredibly motivating.
Not Every Pony is a Good Cow Pony
My horse, Max, was a cow horse. When I first met him, he was in a pasture that also had a couple of calves. Max used to herd the calves. I would stand at the fence and watch him cut the calves away from the horses and drive them into a corner of the pasture. Max was built to be maneuverable. Being 7/8s thoroughbred, he was agile and quick and he could turn on a dime. His gaits were smooth as silk. Riding Max was like driving a fine sports car. But he was sensitive and could easily become unconfident in new situations.
My horse Sonny, on the other hand, was bred to be a halter horse. He is beautiful but not particularly agile. When I first got him, he couldn’t trot in a tight circle without tripping over his own feet. He wings his front feet at the trot and his canter is clunky. Riding Sonny is like driving a Hummer. When I first rode him in the ring I was a little disappointed in his performance because of his gaits but when I took him out into the woods I discovered that he is great on trails. Nothing bothers him, not wind or bad footing or deer jumping out into his path. And he can go all day long in unfamiliar environments without getting upset. Sonny will never be the elegant mover Max was but as a trail horse, he excels.
When leading people, it is important to remember that not everyone will be good at every job. During my years in industry, I frequently saw a person who was a good performer in one type of job perform less successfully when promoted to a different job. At times, this was a temporary situation that resulted from a lack of experience or training. But at other times, it was the result of a poor match between the person and the type of work. When time or training failed to turn the performance situation around, the employee could find himself in a downward performance spiral.
Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. As a leader, it was my job to understand this and place people in situations where their strengths could be utilized to the best advantage. Sometimes that meant guiding them into a different type of work or placing them on teams when their weaknesses could be compensated for by the strengths of others and their strengths could contribute to the success of the team. Trying to make a trail horse into a cutting horse is a recipe for failure with horses or people.
In retrospect, I wish I had known about Parelli™ Natural Horse-Man-Ship when I had started my career in industry. I can see now that my horses Max and Sonny taught me as much about being a good leader as my years in management positions. They taught me to look inside myself when things weren’t going as I had planned rather than to blame them. They taught me to be calm and patient and clear about what I was asking for. They taught me how to appreciate their strengths and compensate for my weaknesses. They taught me that being a successful leader is all about building strong relationships based on trust and respect
Catching Crease
The first time I heard Pat Parelli playing the catching game with a horse and talk about how you should have your horse catch you, rather than you catching them, I thought it was interesting but I never suspected that it might one day become a matter of life or death at our rescue. Of course that was before I had met a big, bay thoroughbred mare named “In The Crease”.
Crease came to our rescue this summer. Part of a stable of thoroughbreds that was dispersed after the death of their owner, Crease had bowed a tendon while racing and then become a broodmare. A big girl, well over 16 hands, she was clearly skeptical of humans and we discovered quickly, very hard to catch.
I started to play with Crease as soon as she arrived. Crease was impulsive, hyper alert, fractious and high-headed. She would over react to things and had a hard time standing still. In other words, she was a lot of horse to handle and I’d not had much opportunity working with a horse with her personality. I spent a lot of time being friendly. She tolerated the training stick I used but would jump away if the attached string was tossed in her direction and she needed every inch of the 22 foot line whenever we played in the ring.
But right from the beginning, catching Crease was a real problem. We could usually catch her first thing in the morning at feeding time and if we were lucky and offering a bucket of grain we could sometime catch her in the middle of the day. I played the catching game with her in our round pen and while she would “catch me” in the confines of the round pen, if we moved to the larger riding arena, she wanted nothing to do with me most of the time.
Realizing that if Crease was ever going to be a candidate for adoption she needed to be ”catchable”, Meredith and I started playing the catching game with her in the riding ring. While one of us would chase her away, the other would keep walking at the other end of the ring. Eventually she began joining up with one or the other of us and soon she was “catching us” in the ring. We played this game enough that eventually we could approach Crease in the pasture most of the time without having her turn her back on us and walk away. I wasn’t one hundred percent with Crease but Meredith could catcher her all of the time and I was making definite progress.
I didn’t realize how important those catching game sessions were until the day we began putting winter blankets on the horses. We hadn’t blanketed Crease before and were a little worried about her reaction but she showed little concern when the volunteers approached with a blanket. They let her sniff it and rubbed it along her neck and sides before slipping it over her back. She stood quietly while they adjusted the straps and walked off quietly when her halter was removed. So the volunteers turned their attention to the next horse and I was surprised when I heard them call with alarm a short time later that we needed to catch Crease.
We’d had a lot of rain recently and Crease’s pasture had a wading pool size depression filled with muddy water. Apparently she had walked directly to this big puddle and rolled. As Crease stood up, the waterlogged blanket had slipped sideways and was now hanging under her belly. This apparently startled the horse who was now running full out, trailed by her pasture mates. The soggy blanket flapping under her belly was fueling her panic while the straps dangled loosely around her flying legs. We could see immediately that she was in danger of catching a leg and falling with potentially disastrous results.
Catching Crease in the pasture when she was calm was one thing but catching her when she was in full panicky flight was another. Grabbing a halter and lead, four of us vaulted the fence and set off in pursuit of the running band of horses. After circling the pasture several times, they headed as a group, into a distant corner when they eventually slowed into a milling herd. Heads high and blowing, they watched us approach. Crease looked ready to set off again at a moments notice. Knowing that she would feel too much pressure if we all tried to approach, Meredith walked up to her. Crease stood for a moment and then trotted off, so I started to play the catching game with Crease. I walked behind her, approaching from the rear. She walked nervously away several times, but she kept looking at me. Finally she stopped and let me approach and put a rope around her neck so we were able to remove the blanket.
Carrying the soggy blanket back across the pasture, I was relieved that this incident didn’t result in a serious injury to Crease. It was clear that all of the time we had spent playing the catching game had paid off in this situation. It was yet another example of how proper preparation with a horse on the ground is so fundamental to having a safe relationship.
Crease came to our rescue this summer. Part of a stable of thoroughbreds that was dispersed after the death of their owner, Crease had bowed a tendon while racing and then become a broodmare. A big girl, well over 16 hands, she was clearly skeptical of humans and we discovered quickly, very hard to catch.
I started to play with Crease as soon as she arrived. Crease was impulsive, hyper alert, fractious and high-headed. She would over react to things and had a hard time standing still. In other words, she was a lot of horse to handle and I’d not had much opportunity working with a horse with her personality. I spent a lot of time being friendly. She tolerated the training stick I used but would jump away if the attached string was tossed in her direction and she needed every inch of the 22 foot line whenever we played in the ring.
But right from the beginning, catching Crease was a real problem. We could usually catch her first thing in the morning at feeding time and if we were lucky and offering a bucket of grain we could sometime catch her in the middle of the day. I played the catching game with her in our round pen and while she would “catch me” in the confines of the round pen, if we moved to the larger riding arena, she wanted nothing to do with me most of the time.
Realizing that if Crease was ever going to be a candidate for adoption she needed to be ”catchable”, Meredith and I started playing the catching game with her in the riding ring. While one of us would chase her away, the other would keep walking at the other end of the ring. Eventually she began joining up with one or the other of us and soon she was “catching us” in the ring. We played this game enough that eventually we could approach Crease in the pasture most of the time without having her turn her back on us and walk away. I wasn’t one hundred percent with Crease but Meredith could catcher her all of the time and I was making definite progress.
I didn’t realize how important those catching game sessions were until the day we began putting winter blankets on the horses. We hadn’t blanketed Crease before and were a little worried about her reaction but she showed little concern when the volunteers approached with a blanket. They let her sniff it and rubbed it along her neck and sides before slipping it over her back. She stood quietly while they adjusted the straps and walked off quietly when her halter was removed. So the volunteers turned their attention to the next horse and I was surprised when I heard them call with alarm a short time later that we needed to catch Crease.
We’d had a lot of rain recently and Crease’s pasture had a wading pool size depression filled with muddy water. Apparently she had walked directly to this big puddle and rolled. As Crease stood up, the waterlogged blanket had slipped sideways and was now hanging under her belly. This apparently startled the horse who was now running full out, trailed by her pasture mates. The soggy blanket flapping under her belly was fueling her panic while the straps dangled loosely around her flying legs. We could see immediately that she was in danger of catching a leg and falling with potentially disastrous results.
Catching Crease in the pasture when she was calm was one thing but catching her when she was in full panicky flight was another. Grabbing a halter and lead, four of us vaulted the fence and set off in pursuit of the running band of horses. After circling the pasture several times, they headed as a group, into a distant corner when they eventually slowed into a milling herd. Heads high and blowing, they watched us approach. Crease looked ready to set off again at a moments notice. Knowing that she would feel too much pressure if we all tried to approach, Meredith walked up to her. Crease stood for a moment and then trotted off, so I started to play the catching game with Crease. I walked behind her, approaching from the rear. She walked nervously away several times, but she kept looking at me. Finally she stopped and let me approach and put a rope around her neck so we were able to remove the blanket.
Carrying the soggy blanket back across the pasture, I was relieved that this incident didn’t result in a serious injury to Crease. It was clear that all of the time we had spent playing the catching game had paid off in this situation. It was yet another example of how proper preparation with a horse on the ground is so fundamental to having a safe relationship.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Playing With Sonny
My horse Sonny is something of a character. A 10 year old paint I bought four year ago, Sonny is a classic Parelli™ left brain introvert. He can be dominant, stubborn and bossy and he would mug you for a carrot. But Sonny has soft eyes and is also calm, dependable and clever. Sometimes when he looks at me I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he considers the best way to push my buttons. Best of all, Sonny makes me laugh. I know we are not supposed to project human traits on our horses but I can swear he has a sense of humor.
The first time I played the driving game with Sonny I stood directly in front of him, put on my best schwiegermutter (German mother-in-law) look, bent slightly forward and began shaking the carrot stick. Sonny’s head came up, his ears came forward, his eyes opened wide and he stared at me. I shook the stick harder and then tapped it on the ground. Sonny took a step backwards. At that point I stood up and started laughing. The look on his face was really comical. It was as if he was asking, “What did you just say to me?”
Sonny and I have been studying Parelli for two years and have made it through level 2. Generally he likes to play on line but he doesn’t like the Circling Game™ and or doing figure eights. I try to play with objects like barrels or cones as often as possible and sometimes. When he is bored or doesn’t want to do what I am asking he will go over to the object and step on it or pick it up and toss it. He must figure that if he takes the object out of play, the game will stop.
When you play the Circling Game™, it is the horse’s responsibility to maintain a constant pace (walk, trot or canter) and maintain direction until you ask for something else. I’ve had a hard time achieving a good consistent circle with Sonny where he maintains his gait. We’ve been working on the 22 foot line and if I get particular about him maintaining gate he can get a bit defiant, shaking his head in annoyance and lunging toward me. He even has been known to throw in a kick or two, although he is never close enough for there to be a threat of him connecting. If I send him with any energy, he will sometimes lunge away, pulling the line out of my hands and canter off to the farthest corner of the arena, metaphorically thumbing his nose at me. Of course after cantering around a bit showing off, he always come right back looking for a carrot.
The last time he tried to take off on the 22 foot line, I planted my feet and held on for all I was worth. This stopped him short and after turning and snorting at me in surprise, he gave me a better trotting circle. So I was excited to begin working with him on the 45 foot line. I thought Sonny would benefit from having a little more space to play with and I would benefit by having more line to play out when he was trying to take off on me.
My local Parelli™ professional was showing me how to use this longer line and I asked her to do some circle game with Sonny so I could watch. She backed him up and sent him off with some energy. He trotted off shaking his head at her and showing his usual annoyance and dominance behavior. When she insisted he continue to move along, he broke into a canter and tried to take off but she was ready for him. She quickly moved forward with him and flipped the line to pop him on the side of his butt to make him disengage his hindquarters and turn to face her. Boy did he look surprised. He turned to face her and snorted a couple of times. He looked like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. How had that women on the other end of the line reached out and popped him in the butt? When she sent him out on the circle the next time, he stepped off in a nice trot and kept trotting until she asked him to stop. It was amazing how well he went. I am really hopeful that working on the 45 foot line is going to take up to the next level in our development.
In the meantime, Sonny continues to make me laugh. During our last riding lesson, we were working on getting good left lead departures. He had given me a couple of really nice ones so I had ridden him into the center of the ring to give him a rest. I walked him toward a barrel that was standing on end. He walked right up to it and lifted his left leg and put his foot on top of the barrel. Talk about effort. I was so surprised. The top of that barrel must have been three foot off the ground and he put his hoof right on top of it. This from a horse who thinks putting out an effort is walking from one patch of green grass to another! I can’t believe how lucky I am to have this special horse.
The first time I played the driving game with Sonny I stood directly in front of him, put on my best schwiegermutter (German mother-in-law) look, bent slightly forward and began shaking the carrot stick. Sonny’s head came up, his ears came forward, his eyes opened wide and he stared at me. I shook the stick harder and then tapped it on the ground. Sonny took a step backwards. At that point I stood up and started laughing. The look on his face was really comical. It was as if he was asking, “What did you just say to me?”
Sonny and I have been studying Parelli for two years and have made it through level 2. Generally he likes to play on line but he doesn’t like the Circling Game™ and or doing figure eights. I try to play with objects like barrels or cones as often as possible and sometimes. When he is bored or doesn’t want to do what I am asking he will go over to the object and step on it or pick it up and toss it. He must figure that if he takes the object out of play, the game will stop.
When you play the Circling Game™, it is the horse’s responsibility to maintain a constant pace (walk, trot or canter) and maintain direction until you ask for something else. I’ve had a hard time achieving a good consistent circle with Sonny where he maintains his gait. We’ve been working on the 22 foot line and if I get particular about him maintaining gate he can get a bit defiant, shaking his head in annoyance and lunging toward me. He even has been known to throw in a kick or two, although he is never close enough for there to be a threat of him connecting. If I send him with any energy, he will sometimes lunge away, pulling the line out of my hands and canter off to the farthest corner of the arena, metaphorically thumbing his nose at me. Of course after cantering around a bit showing off, he always come right back looking for a carrot.
The last time he tried to take off on the 22 foot line, I planted my feet and held on for all I was worth. This stopped him short and after turning and snorting at me in surprise, he gave me a better trotting circle. So I was excited to begin working with him on the 45 foot line. I thought Sonny would benefit from having a little more space to play with and I would benefit by having more line to play out when he was trying to take off on me.
My local Parelli™ professional was showing me how to use this longer line and I asked her to do some circle game with Sonny so I could watch. She backed him up and sent him off with some energy. He trotted off shaking his head at her and showing his usual annoyance and dominance behavior. When she insisted he continue to move along, he broke into a canter and tried to take off but she was ready for him. She quickly moved forward with him and flipped the line to pop him on the side of his butt to make him disengage his hindquarters and turn to face her. Boy did he look surprised. He turned to face her and snorted a couple of times. He looked like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. How had that women on the other end of the line reached out and popped him in the butt? When she sent him out on the circle the next time, he stepped off in a nice trot and kept trotting until she asked him to stop. It was amazing how well he went. I am really hopeful that working on the 45 foot line is going to take up to the next level in our development.
In the meantime, Sonny continues to make me laugh. During our last riding lesson, we were working on getting good left lead departures. He had given me a couple of really nice ones so I had ridden him into the center of the ring to give him a rest. I walked him toward a barrel that was standing on end. He walked right up to it and lifted his left leg and put his foot on top of the barrel. Talk about effort. I was so surprised. The top of that barrel must have been three foot off the ground and he put his hoof right on top of it. This from a horse who thinks putting out an effort is walking from one patch of green grass to another! I can’t believe how lucky I am to have this special horse.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Matchmaking at the Rescue
My first experience with horse rescue was as an adopter and it was not altogether a positive experience. Looking back on it now, I think the lesson I learned was that one of the most important jobs of a rescue organization is to be a good matchmaker. A rescue needs to make sure that the horse and the potential adopter are well suited to one another and the key to doing this well is fundamentally understanding the concept of Horsenality™.
When my horse Max died, I knew I wanted to get another horse. Max was 32 years old when he died. He had been my partner for 23 years and during that time I seldom rode another horse. In the last few years of his life, I hadn’t ridden often and when I did, we mostly walked. I had never been an overly confident rider but I’d had Max so long that I could almost feel what his reactions would be in most situations. We trusted each other and it made both of us braver than either of us would have been alone.
I had recently seen an article about a local rescue organization that was dedicated to finding homes for retired thoroughbreds. Max was an appaloosa but he was 7/8ths thoroughbred and when he was younger, he could be a handful. So I thought I would be able to manage a rescued thoroughbred. I checked out the rescue’s website and called to discuss a potential adoption with one of the women who ran the organization. I told her about losing Max and wanting to adopt a horse to replace him. I made sure to tell her that while I had been a horse owner for a long time and was confident handling horses, I was not the most confident rider. She suggested that I come out to the farm and look at the horses.
During my first visit, I talked at great length about what kind of a horse Max had been and what I was looking for in a replacement. I wanted a quiet horse that I could trail ride. I wasn’t interested in showing or doing anything fancy. I looked at the horses that were there but didn’t think any of them would be suitable. She then asked me if I would be interested in a horse that was a little bit older. They had a 12 year old thoroughbred that was going to be available soon. This horse had been retired for about six years and was occasionally ridden out cross country. He wasn’t at the farm during that first visit but he would be there shortly. She thought he would be a good match.
I make a second visit to the farm to meet this thoroughbred. He was a big bay horse named Readytogo. A grandson of the race horse Seattle Slew, he was beautiful. She saddled him and rode him around a field to show me how he moved. Then I got on him and rode him a walk and trot. He was more forward, with a bigger stride than I was used to but he didn’t seem to be that hard to handle so I agreed to adopt him, arranged for the necessary vet check and completed the paperwork. Both of the women who worked at this rescue told me that they always followed up on their adoptions to make sure they were working out and they even agreed to transport the horse for me to the barn where I would stable him.
The following week, I returned to the farm to accompany my new thoroughbred to his new home. The farm we were moving him to was only a couple of miles away so I didn’t anticipate any real problems. Ready seemed a little anxious but loaded without any serious problems and we were off. When we unloaded him ten minutes later and he was a little lathered up, I didn’t think much of it. He circled me nervously at the end of his lead line and wouldn’t stand still to be brushed but I wasn’t too concerned. We had just moved him to a new barn and I thought he would settle down after he had settled into his new routine.
For the first couple of weeks that I had Ready, I only worked with him on the ground. I quickly discovered that while he was easy enough to catch, he didn’t really like to be handled or groomed. He particularly didn’t like to have his back legs touched and kicked at me more than once. I wrote that off to his having not been handled much for the past six years and tried not to force him to do things that made him uncomfortable. Everyday, I took him into the indoor arena and walked him around so he could get used to the unfamiliar smells and sights. I brought him treats. He liked the carrots but wouldn’t eat apples. I tried to make him comfortable and confident.
Finally, I saddled him up for our first ride. He stood by the mounting block but when I put my foot in the stirrup and started to mount he reached around and bit me hard on my thigh. The bite didn’t break any skin but it gave me a bruise that lasted for weeks. I was startled by this behavior but wrote it off as a bad habit left over from his racing days. The next time I went to mount I was prepared and had a better hold of his head so he couldn’t reach around to my leg.
Under saddle, Ready was completely unpredictable. He vacillated between wanting to run off with me and being reluctant to go forward. He over reacted to situations, coming completely unglued at times. He would walk by a barrel or jump standard in the ring a dozen times without giving it any notice and then on the thirteenth pass shy as if he’d never seen it before. With every ride, I was losing confidence in myself. I read everything I could find about retraining racehorses. I got a trainer for Ready and started taking lessons again. I sent updates to the rescue, trying to put a positive spin on the experience but in my heart I knew it wasn’t going well.
I wanted this adoption to work but no matter what I tried, I knew I wasn’t building a positive relationship with this horse. One evening I came to the barn to work with Ready. He had been particularly difficult in the ring and when we finished, I was frustrated and discouraged. After cleaning him up and putting him in his stall, I reached through the door to hand him a carrot. He struck at my hand and gave me a nasty bite, taking the skin off the end of two fingers. After washing my hand off in the bathroom, I sat down on the toilet and cried. During the seven months I had been working with this horse I had never been rough with him in any way. I didn’t know what I had done to provoke this kind of behavior.
The following day I was talking to my mother and venting my frustration with the situation. I told her that I had gotten to the point that I didn’t even want to go out to the barn any more. At that point she asked me what I wanted and blurted out, “This horse is going to kill me. I want Max back!” The minute the words were out of my mouth, I realized that I needed to stop trying to make this work. I didn’t have the capability to fix the situation with Ready and I had lost my confidence. Worse than that, I had gotten to the point where I was actually afraid of him.
The next day I called the rescue and told them this adoption wasn’t going to work. I told them I wasn’t interested in getting my adoption fee back, I just wanted them to take the horse back. He was too much horse for me and he was never going to be what I wanted and I was never going to be what he needed. Fortunately for me, they agreed and I started looking for a new horse.
In retrospect, there were plenty of clues in the first month that I had Ready that should have told me we were not a good match for each other. This was long before I had heard of Pat Parelli or natural horsemanship and long before I had heard of the concept of Horsenality™. Ready was a classic right brain extrovert. He was panicky and over reactive. He would shy at the drop of a hat. He needed a rider who was more confident that I was. The longer I worked with him, the less confident I became. The less confident I became the more reactive and nervous he became. Our relationship started into a downward spiral that I couldn’t reverse.
This was a difficult but important lesson for me to learn. Although I didn’t understand anything about horsenality, I did know that after my experience with Ready, I wanted my next horse to be quiet, calm, dependable and friendly. I looked carefully and finally bought a six year old paint who had been a “husband’s horse”. Without knowing anything about Horsenality™, I bought a left brain introvert. I’ve had Sonny now for four years and have been studying Parelli Natural Horsemanship for the last two. He is the perfect partner for me and we have made great progress, but that is another story.
I don’t blame anyone for the failure of my adoption. Certainly the women at the rescue were doing their best to find me a suitable match. They sincerely thought that this older horse would be a good match for me. But if they had understood the concept of Horsenality™, they wouldn’t have suggested this particular horse for a rider who told them over and over that she was not a confident rider. At our rescue, we try to understand each of our horse’s personalities. We listen carefully to what out potential adopters tell us and we observe them playing with the horses. We do our best to be good matchmakers. Not all of our matches work out, but the better we understand a horse’s innate characteristics and traits, the better able we are to find them a suitable partner.
If you would like to learn more about the concept of Horsenality™, visit the Parelli website at http://www.parellinaturalhorsetraining.com/horsenality-horses
When my horse Max died, I knew I wanted to get another horse. Max was 32 years old when he died. He had been my partner for 23 years and during that time I seldom rode another horse. In the last few years of his life, I hadn’t ridden often and when I did, we mostly walked. I had never been an overly confident rider but I’d had Max so long that I could almost feel what his reactions would be in most situations. We trusted each other and it made both of us braver than either of us would have been alone.
I had recently seen an article about a local rescue organization that was dedicated to finding homes for retired thoroughbreds. Max was an appaloosa but he was 7/8ths thoroughbred and when he was younger, he could be a handful. So I thought I would be able to manage a rescued thoroughbred. I checked out the rescue’s website and called to discuss a potential adoption with one of the women who ran the organization. I told her about losing Max and wanting to adopt a horse to replace him. I made sure to tell her that while I had been a horse owner for a long time and was confident handling horses, I was not the most confident rider. She suggested that I come out to the farm and look at the horses.
During my first visit, I talked at great length about what kind of a horse Max had been and what I was looking for in a replacement. I wanted a quiet horse that I could trail ride. I wasn’t interested in showing or doing anything fancy. I looked at the horses that were there but didn’t think any of them would be suitable. She then asked me if I would be interested in a horse that was a little bit older. They had a 12 year old thoroughbred that was going to be available soon. This horse had been retired for about six years and was occasionally ridden out cross country. He wasn’t at the farm during that first visit but he would be there shortly. She thought he would be a good match.
I make a second visit to the farm to meet this thoroughbred. He was a big bay horse named Readytogo. A grandson of the race horse Seattle Slew, he was beautiful. She saddled him and rode him around a field to show me how he moved. Then I got on him and rode him a walk and trot. He was more forward, with a bigger stride than I was used to but he didn’t seem to be that hard to handle so I agreed to adopt him, arranged for the necessary vet check and completed the paperwork. Both of the women who worked at this rescue told me that they always followed up on their adoptions to make sure they were working out and they even agreed to transport the horse for me to the barn where I would stable him.
The following week, I returned to the farm to accompany my new thoroughbred to his new home. The farm we were moving him to was only a couple of miles away so I didn’t anticipate any real problems. Ready seemed a little anxious but loaded without any serious problems and we were off. When we unloaded him ten minutes later and he was a little lathered up, I didn’t think much of it. He circled me nervously at the end of his lead line and wouldn’t stand still to be brushed but I wasn’t too concerned. We had just moved him to a new barn and I thought he would settle down after he had settled into his new routine.
For the first couple of weeks that I had Ready, I only worked with him on the ground. I quickly discovered that while he was easy enough to catch, he didn’t really like to be handled or groomed. He particularly didn’t like to have his back legs touched and kicked at me more than once. I wrote that off to his having not been handled much for the past six years and tried not to force him to do things that made him uncomfortable. Everyday, I took him into the indoor arena and walked him around so he could get used to the unfamiliar smells and sights. I brought him treats. He liked the carrots but wouldn’t eat apples. I tried to make him comfortable and confident.
Finally, I saddled him up for our first ride. He stood by the mounting block but when I put my foot in the stirrup and started to mount he reached around and bit me hard on my thigh. The bite didn’t break any skin but it gave me a bruise that lasted for weeks. I was startled by this behavior but wrote it off as a bad habit left over from his racing days. The next time I went to mount I was prepared and had a better hold of his head so he couldn’t reach around to my leg.
Under saddle, Ready was completely unpredictable. He vacillated between wanting to run off with me and being reluctant to go forward. He over reacted to situations, coming completely unglued at times. He would walk by a barrel or jump standard in the ring a dozen times without giving it any notice and then on the thirteenth pass shy as if he’d never seen it before. With every ride, I was losing confidence in myself. I read everything I could find about retraining racehorses. I got a trainer for Ready and started taking lessons again. I sent updates to the rescue, trying to put a positive spin on the experience but in my heart I knew it wasn’t going well.
I wanted this adoption to work but no matter what I tried, I knew I wasn’t building a positive relationship with this horse. One evening I came to the barn to work with Ready. He had been particularly difficult in the ring and when we finished, I was frustrated and discouraged. After cleaning him up and putting him in his stall, I reached through the door to hand him a carrot. He struck at my hand and gave me a nasty bite, taking the skin off the end of two fingers. After washing my hand off in the bathroom, I sat down on the toilet and cried. During the seven months I had been working with this horse I had never been rough with him in any way. I didn’t know what I had done to provoke this kind of behavior.
The following day I was talking to my mother and venting my frustration with the situation. I told her that I had gotten to the point that I didn’t even want to go out to the barn any more. At that point she asked me what I wanted and blurted out, “This horse is going to kill me. I want Max back!” The minute the words were out of my mouth, I realized that I needed to stop trying to make this work. I didn’t have the capability to fix the situation with Ready and I had lost my confidence. Worse than that, I had gotten to the point where I was actually afraid of him.
The next day I called the rescue and told them this adoption wasn’t going to work. I told them I wasn’t interested in getting my adoption fee back, I just wanted them to take the horse back. He was too much horse for me and he was never going to be what I wanted and I was never going to be what he needed. Fortunately for me, they agreed and I started looking for a new horse.
In retrospect, there were plenty of clues in the first month that I had Ready that should have told me we were not a good match for each other. This was long before I had heard of Pat Parelli or natural horsemanship and long before I had heard of the concept of Horsenality™. Ready was a classic right brain extrovert. He was panicky and over reactive. He would shy at the drop of a hat. He needed a rider who was more confident that I was. The longer I worked with him, the less confident I became. The less confident I became the more reactive and nervous he became. Our relationship started into a downward spiral that I couldn’t reverse.
This was a difficult but important lesson for me to learn. Although I didn’t understand anything about horsenality, I did know that after my experience with Ready, I wanted my next horse to be quiet, calm, dependable and friendly. I looked carefully and finally bought a six year old paint who had been a “husband’s horse”. Without knowing anything about Horsenality™, I bought a left brain introvert. I’ve had Sonny now for four years and have been studying Parelli Natural Horsemanship for the last two. He is the perfect partner for me and we have made great progress, but that is another story.
I don’t blame anyone for the failure of my adoption. Certainly the women at the rescue were doing their best to find me a suitable match. They sincerely thought that this older horse would be a good match for me. But if they had understood the concept of Horsenality™, they wouldn’t have suggested this particular horse for a rider who told them over and over that she was not a confident rider. At our rescue, we try to understand each of our horse’s personalities. We listen carefully to what out potential adopters tell us and we observe them playing with the horses. We do our best to be good matchmakers. Not all of our matches work out, but the better we understand a horse’s innate characteristics and traits, the better able we are to find them a suitable partner.
If you would like to learn more about the concept of Horsenality™, visit the Parelli website at http://www.parellinaturalhorsetraining.com/horsenality-horses
All I Wanted for Christmas
The journey I am on learning how to be a natural horsewoman can be measured. When you study Parelli Natural Horse-Man-Ship™ progress is measured in levels in four areas. Those areas are on-line, where you are working on the ground with your horse on a lead line; freestyle, where you are riding using a lose or relaxed rein; liberty, where you are working on the ground and your hoses is free and finesse, where your are riding using more contact with the bit. The measurement tool is a ten minute performance or audition where certain skills must be demonstrated and is usually performed to music.
This fall I passed my level 2 freestyle audition and I set a goal to achieve level 3 on line, freestyle and at liberty during 2010. So all I really wanted for Christmas was the new Parelli levels program and a 45 foot line. When the package arrived I couldn’t wait to get started. I watched the section where Pat introduces the use of the 45 foot line. He made it look easy to toss and coil the line but he suggested that it would be a good idea to practice before getting into the round pen with your horse. I can’t tell you how right he was because it isn’t nearly as easy as he makes it look.
I was eager to practice with the line but the weather here in Delaware wasn’t being very cooperative. First we had 18 inches of snow. That was followed in quick succession by frigid weather, several inches of rain and more frigid weather. I took to tossing the line down the hallway from my kitchen to the hall closet door. I got pretty good at hitting the door but I quickly managed to terrorize all three of my cats and the line always ended up in a tangle.
Coiling the line isn’t easy. Unlike the heavier marine nylon 12 and 22 foot lines, the 45 foot line has a ‘shape memory” and it wants to coil in a particular way. Coiling this line is like coiling a garden hose that is still charged with water. I would toss the line and then start to coil it but the line wouldn’t cooperate. By the time I had most of it back in my hand, it wasn’t a nice series of concentric coils. It was more like an unruly boa constrictor fighting to get free. I was grateful I had guests in the house for Christmas because more than once I needed help getting the line back in shape.
By the time the weather had cleared enough to take the rope outdoors, I could toss it pretty accurately but I was still having trouble coiling without having it end up in a tangle. Frustrated but not discouraged, I called my local Parelli professional and asked for a lesson. She was able to show me a little trick for handling the line. Apparently the key is in the wrist action, a bit of a reach with a flip of the hand so the knuckles twist upward. What a relief to learn that I am not a complete rope klutz after all.
Years ago, before the digital revolution, I became interested in photography. I was in graduate school and had access to a darkroom so I wanted to learn how to develop my own film. Film had to be removed from the camera and loaded into a developer reel in total darkness. For weeks I walked around in the evening loading a role film onto that reel until I could do it by feel, without looking at my hands.
Now I am taking the same approach with my 45 foot line. Before I started writing this, I was waking around the house, separating the coils of my 45 foot line without looking at them. I am still getting them tangled a bit but it is getting easier and I am confident that before long, I will be able to handle this line with as much feel and confidence that I had with the film and developer reel.
This fall I passed my level 2 freestyle audition and I set a goal to achieve level 3 on line, freestyle and at liberty during 2010. So all I really wanted for Christmas was the new Parelli levels program and a 45 foot line. When the package arrived I couldn’t wait to get started. I watched the section where Pat introduces the use of the 45 foot line. He made it look easy to toss and coil the line but he suggested that it would be a good idea to practice before getting into the round pen with your horse. I can’t tell you how right he was because it isn’t nearly as easy as he makes it look.
I was eager to practice with the line but the weather here in Delaware wasn’t being very cooperative. First we had 18 inches of snow. That was followed in quick succession by frigid weather, several inches of rain and more frigid weather. I took to tossing the line down the hallway from my kitchen to the hall closet door. I got pretty good at hitting the door but I quickly managed to terrorize all three of my cats and the line always ended up in a tangle.
Coiling the line isn’t easy. Unlike the heavier marine nylon 12 and 22 foot lines, the 45 foot line has a ‘shape memory” and it wants to coil in a particular way. Coiling this line is like coiling a garden hose that is still charged with water. I would toss the line and then start to coil it but the line wouldn’t cooperate. By the time I had most of it back in my hand, it wasn’t a nice series of concentric coils. It was more like an unruly boa constrictor fighting to get free. I was grateful I had guests in the house for Christmas because more than once I needed help getting the line back in shape.
By the time the weather had cleared enough to take the rope outdoors, I could toss it pretty accurately but I was still having trouble coiling without having it end up in a tangle. Frustrated but not discouraged, I called my local Parelli professional and asked for a lesson. She was able to show me a little trick for handling the line. Apparently the key is in the wrist action, a bit of a reach with a flip of the hand so the knuckles twist upward. What a relief to learn that I am not a complete rope klutz after all.
Years ago, before the digital revolution, I became interested in photography. I was in graduate school and had access to a darkroom so I wanted to learn how to develop my own film. Film had to be removed from the camera and loaded into a developer reel in total darkness. For weeks I walked around in the evening loading a role film onto that reel until I could do it by feel, without looking at my hands.
Now I am taking the same approach with my 45 foot line. Before I started writing this, I was waking around the house, separating the coils of my 45 foot line without looking at them. I am still getting them tangled a bit but it is getting easier and I am confident that before long, I will be able to handle this line with as much feel and confidence that I had with the film and developer reel.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Finding a Home for Cooper
This economy has really been difficult for our horse rescue. For the past year, we’ve received at least a dozen calls a week from owners who can no longer afford to keep their horses. At the same time, contributions are down, grants are harder to get, the cost of feed and medical care continues to rise and our adoption rate has slowed to a mere trickle. So I guess it is not all that surprising that we are having trouble finding a home for Cooper.
Cooper (Big Red Express) came to us in the summer of 2008. Donated by a caring owner who wanted the best for his horse, this four year old, liver chestnut thoroughbred gelding arrived at the farm a bit underweight but without any serious racing injuries. I’ll never forget the day he arrived. His trainer told us that he hadn’t been turned out since he was a two year old, so when we unloaded him from the trailer and turned him out into our receiving field, we expected that he race away. Not Cooper, he was almost hesitant walking in the grass. It was almost as if he didn’t know what that green stuff under his feet was. He’d take a few steps and then put his nose down and sniff. Then he’d take a few more. For ten minutes he slowly worked his way in this manner up the field toward the far fence where our retirees had gathered to inspect the new arrival.
Cooper is a gentle soul. Never high in the pecking order, he has the good sense to wait at feeding time until the more dominant horses select a feeding bucket before coming to the fence but he is quick to approach our volunteers for a scratch or a treat. It was clear to us from the beginning that his behavior showed all of the characteristics of a right brain introvert so when we did begin to work with him, we took it nice and slow. On the ground, we played the seven games but focused on going slow and building trust. When riding, we worked on having Cooper relax. To build his confidence, we took him out on short trails around the farm but tried not to push him past thresholds. Slowly he came out of his shell. He demonstrated beautiful gaits and a willingness to learn. He clearly has potential and we thought it would be easy to find him a permanent loving home.
Yet here we are, over a year later, and we still haven’t found Cooper a home. Cooper has a problem. He cribs. And despite his sweet nature, fluid gaits and obvious potential, we can’t find someone who wants to give a horse that cribs a chance. Right now he is being sponsored by our equine dentist and he is loved by every volunteer at the rescue, but what Cooper really needs is a partner. Someone who would take the time it takes to build a loving, trusting relationship and would work with Cooper to bring out his full potential.
So if you know anyone who would be willing to take a chance on this really great guy, please let me know. Cooper deserves the chance.
Cooper (Big Red Express) came to us in the summer of 2008. Donated by a caring owner who wanted the best for his horse, this four year old, liver chestnut thoroughbred gelding arrived at the farm a bit underweight but without any serious racing injuries. I’ll never forget the day he arrived. His trainer told us that he hadn’t been turned out since he was a two year old, so when we unloaded him from the trailer and turned him out into our receiving field, we expected that he race away. Not Cooper, he was almost hesitant walking in the grass. It was almost as if he didn’t know what that green stuff under his feet was. He’d take a few steps and then put his nose down and sniff. Then he’d take a few more. For ten minutes he slowly worked his way in this manner up the field toward the far fence where our retirees had gathered to inspect the new arrival.
Cooper is a gentle soul. Never high in the pecking order, he has the good sense to wait at feeding time until the more dominant horses select a feeding bucket before coming to the fence but he is quick to approach our volunteers for a scratch or a treat. It was clear to us from the beginning that his behavior showed all of the characteristics of a right brain introvert so when we did begin to work with him, we took it nice and slow. On the ground, we played the seven games but focused on going slow and building trust. When riding, we worked on having Cooper relax. To build his confidence, we took him out on short trails around the farm but tried not to push him past thresholds. Slowly he came out of his shell. He demonstrated beautiful gaits and a willingness to learn. He clearly has potential and we thought it would be easy to find him a permanent loving home.
Yet here we are, over a year later, and we still haven’t found Cooper a home. Cooper has a problem. He cribs. And despite his sweet nature, fluid gaits and obvious potential, we can’t find someone who wants to give a horse that cribs a chance. Right now he is being sponsored by our equine dentist and he is loved by every volunteer at the rescue, but what Cooper really needs is a partner. Someone who would take the time it takes to build a loving, trusting relationship and would work with Cooper to bring out his full potential.
So if you know anyone who would be willing to take a chance on this really great guy, please let me know. Cooper deserves the chance.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
In the Beginning
When I first began working at the rescue, The SummerWinds Stables had recently taken over management of Greener Pastures, a 165 acre horse sanctuary located on the Sassafras River in Maryland. Donated years before by Doris Wear, the property was to be used both as home for retired and rescued horses and a wildlife sanctuary. It had been managed by several organizations before SummerWinds and had a resident population of 15 horses, most retired thoroughbreds, a great blue heron rookery and a nesting pair of bald eagles.
The fifteen horses at the sanctuary lived on good pasture and were well nourished but were not handled frequently and many of them were cautious around humans. Since it was late spring when I first came to the rescue, many of the horses were still shedding their winter coats. While most of them were in good physical condition, their coats, manes and tails showed the effects of a lack of grooming. This was particularly true of their tails with many of them being so tangled and matted that they were almost club-like. Horses use their tails as fly swatters and in their current condition; many of the tails would be ineffective. As the weather continued to warm, the increase in insects would likely be very bothersome to many of these horses.
In my experience, most horses like to be groomed, particularly when they are shedding so I thought it would be an easy task to clean up this group of horses, improving their appearance and making them more comfortable by removing loose hair and detangling their tails. But these horses were not used to being handled. Some of them were difficult to catch and they all became agitated when haltered and removed from their pastures buddies. It was clear to me that before I could begin any serious attempts at grooming; I was going to have to gain their trust.
At the time, I didn’t know anything about natural horsemanship. I had heard about horse whisperers and read one book by Monty Roberts but that was about as far as my knowledge went. What I did have was 25 years experience working with my own horse, Max, who had taught me that a horse will mirror my energy. When I was quiet and confident, Max would remain calm but if I got upset or excited, Max would get frightened and agitated. So I figured the best approach to working with these horses was to just be a calm and constant presence.
At the rescue, the horses were split between three pastures. They were fed grain morning and evening, coming into paddocks to eat from buckets hung from the paddock fences. After the horses were finished eating, I would take a curry comb and brush and go into each paddock to groom whichever horses would stand still for me. In the beginning, several of the horses wouldn’t even let me touch them. If a horse turned or walked away when I approached, I would retreat and approach a different horse. If I was brushing a horse and it chose to walk off, I would let him go. I never forced the issue. I might try to approach the horse again, but I always let the horse have the final say. I spoke quietly while I was working and purposefully stayed calm. Some days, I would take a halter and lead line into the paddock and try to halter the horses. If I could get the halter on a horse, I would lead it around and then take the halter off and walk away.
Without really knowing what I was doing, I was using the technique of approach and retreat to get the horses used to my presence. Horses are prey animals. Their primary concern is their safety and their best defense against predators is their ability to run away. Despite our best intentions, we humans are predators. By giving the horses the choice of leaving when I was working with them, I was allowing them to feel safe in my presence. Pretty soon, I could walk up to most of them and brush them all over their bodies. Some of them would even let me brush their manes and tails. I had taken my first steps on my natural horsemanship journey without even realizing that was what I was doing.
Gaining the trust of some horses took longer. The most extreme example was Jody. Jody is a bay thoroughbred with one white sock and a tear drop of white on his forehead. Early on, when would enter the paddock to groom he always hung back, staying just beyond the edges of the group, never directly looking at me, never allowing himself to be touched.
All that first summer I tried to get near enough to Jody to groom him. I would approach and if he started to move away, I would retreat. It was like an elegant dance of predator and prey. If I went into the paddock when the horses were eating, I could sometimes stroke Jody’s neck. But he never tolerated my touch for long before he would move away.
Summer became fall and occasionally Jody would stand for a few moments to be brushed. He never brought his head around to look at me with two eyes. He only looked out of the corner of one eye, sometimes with eyes half closed, like he had drawn way inside himself in order to allow this brushing. He was tense, withdrawn, not enjoying the scratching of the curry comb or the stroking of the brush on his skin.
In winter, Jody would occasionally let me approach him and would take a carrot from my hand, but he wouldn’t let me put a blanket on his back. Often, I would see him huddled at the end of the run in shed, looking cold and miserable and it saddened me that there was so little I could do to bring comfort to this quiet animal.
By spring, I could put a halter on Jody and hold him for the blacksmith. He would stand to be brushed and no longer flinched away at my touch, but I sill couldn’t sense that he took any pleasure in my company. Yet still I approached him every day I went to the rescue, spoke to him in soft tones and rubbed the dirt from his back with my fingers. “How’s it going big fellow?” I would ask him. And I would rub him until he chose to walk away.
For fourteen months Jody and I performed this ballet, always with me in the lead, approach and retreat, until finally one day I entered the paddock and Jody actually walked toward me. First one hesitant step and then another, until he stood beside me. “How’s it going big fellow?” I asked as I stroked his neck and his back. Then I began scratching at the base of his mane, starting from the withers and going up his neck. Slowly, he stretched his neck forward and down and began to work his lips. I scratched harder. He sighed and closed his eyes. I could feel his body relax and I could tell he was enjoying this contact that he had finally invited. When I stopped scratching, Jody turned his head toward me and looked at me with both soft chocolate eyes.
We can never know exactly what our horses are thinking about us but at this moment, with this horse, I’m sure he was thinking, Thank you for not giving up on me!
My journey toward becoming a better horsewoman took a huge step forward that day. By then, I was actively studying the Parelli method of natural horsemanship and I had learned that all of the time I spent that first spring at the rescue free grooming horses was all about establishing a mutual respect. There is no shortcut to building trust. It takes time and consistency and an occasional carrot. That was a lesson taught and reinforced by Jody.
The fifteen horses at the sanctuary lived on good pasture and were well nourished but were not handled frequently and many of them were cautious around humans. Since it was late spring when I first came to the rescue, many of the horses were still shedding their winter coats. While most of them were in good physical condition, their coats, manes and tails showed the effects of a lack of grooming. This was particularly true of their tails with many of them being so tangled and matted that they were almost club-like. Horses use their tails as fly swatters and in their current condition; many of the tails would be ineffective. As the weather continued to warm, the increase in insects would likely be very bothersome to many of these horses.
In my experience, most horses like to be groomed, particularly when they are shedding so I thought it would be an easy task to clean up this group of horses, improving their appearance and making them more comfortable by removing loose hair and detangling their tails. But these horses were not used to being handled. Some of them were difficult to catch and they all became agitated when haltered and removed from their pastures buddies. It was clear to me that before I could begin any serious attempts at grooming; I was going to have to gain their trust.
At the time, I didn’t know anything about natural horsemanship. I had heard about horse whisperers and read one book by Monty Roberts but that was about as far as my knowledge went. What I did have was 25 years experience working with my own horse, Max, who had taught me that a horse will mirror my energy. When I was quiet and confident, Max would remain calm but if I got upset or excited, Max would get frightened and agitated. So I figured the best approach to working with these horses was to just be a calm and constant presence.
At the rescue, the horses were split between three pastures. They were fed grain morning and evening, coming into paddocks to eat from buckets hung from the paddock fences. After the horses were finished eating, I would take a curry comb and brush and go into each paddock to groom whichever horses would stand still for me. In the beginning, several of the horses wouldn’t even let me touch them. If a horse turned or walked away when I approached, I would retreat and approach a different horse. If I was brushing a horse and it chose to walk off, I would let him go. I never forced the issue. I might try to approach the horse again, but I always let the horse have the final say. I spoke quietly while I was working and purposefully stayed calm. Some days, I would take a halter and lead line into the paddock and try to halter the horses. If I could get the halter on a horse, I would lead it around and then take the halter off and walk away.
Without really knowing what I was doing, I was using the technique of approach and retreat to get the horses used to my presence. Horses are prey animals. Their primary concern is their safety and their best defense against predators is their ability to run away. Despite our best intentions, we humans are predators. By giving the horses the choice of leaving when I was working with them, I was allowing them to feel safe in my presence. Pretty soon, I could walk up to most of them and brush them all over their bodies. Some of them would even let me brush their manes and tails. I had taken my first steps on my natural horsemanship journey without even realizing that was what I was doing.
Gaining the trust of some horses took longer. The most extreme example was Jody. Jody is a bay thoroughbred with one white sock and a tear drop of white on his forehead. Early on, when would enter the paddock to groom he always hung back, staying just beyond the edges of the group, never directly looking at me, never allowing himself to be touched.
All that first summer I tried to get near enough to Jody to groom him. I would approach and if he started to move away, I would retreat. It was like an elegant dance of predator and prey. If I went into the paddock when the horses were eating, I could sometimes stroke Jody’s neck. But he never tolerated my touch for long before he would move away.
Summer became fall and occasionally Jody would stand for a few moments to be brushed. He never brought his head around to look at me with two eyes. He only looked out of the corner of one eye, sometimes with eyes half closed, like he had drawn way inside himself in order to allow this brushing. He was tense, withdrawn, not enjoying the scratching of the curry comb or the stroking of the brush on his skin.
In winter, Jody would occasionally let me approach him and would take a carrot from my hand, but he wouldn’t let me put a blanket on his back. Often, I would see him huddled at the end of the run in shed, looking cold and miserable and it saddened me that there was so little I could do to bring comfort to this quiet animal.
By spring, I could put a halter on Jody and hold him for the blacksmith. He would stand to be brushed and no longer flinched away at my touch, but I sill couldn’t sense that he took any pleasure in my company. Yet still I approached him every day I went to the rescue, spoke to him in soft tones and rubbed the dirt from his back with my fingers. “How’s it going big fellow?” I would ask him. And I would rub him until he chose to walk away.
For fourteen months Jody and I performed this ballet, always with me in the lead, approach and retreat, until finally one day I entered the paddock and Jody actually walked toward me. First one hesitant step and then another, until he stood beside me. “How’s it going big fellow?” I asked as I stroked his neck and his back. Then I began scratching at the base of his mane, starting from the withers and going up his neck. Slowly, he stretched his neck forward and down and began to work his lips. I scratched harder. He sighed and closed his eyes. I could feel his body relax and I could tell he was enjoying this contact that he had finally invited. When I stopped scratching, Jody turned his head toward me and looked at me with both soft chocolate eyes.
We can never know exactly what our horses are thinking about us but at this moment, with this horse, I’m sure he was thinking, Thank you for not giving up on me!
My journey toward becoming a better horsewoman took a huge step forward that day. By then, I was actively studying the Parelli method of natural horsemanship and I had learned that all of the time I spent that first spring at the rescue free grooming horses was all about establishing a mutual respect. There is no shortcut to building trust. It takes time and consistency and an occasional carrot. That was a lesson taught and reinforced by Jody.
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