Twister Speaks--For the First Time

by Laura Crum


Last month I wrote a post about my son’s horse, Henry, asking me for a drink of water. I thought this was pretty cool, and I explain why in the post (“Henry Speaks”—October). But a few days ago I was treated to an even more amazing demonstration of communication from a horse. Or at least it amazed me. Let me know what you think.

I have four horses on my place, one of which is Twister—a fourteen year old gray gelding who belongs to my friend Wally. Twister is Wally’s team roping horse; Wally takes him to practice ropings and competitions several days a week on average. I don’t ride or handle Twister much, but he has lived here with me for seven years, and I feed him every day and help with his care as needed. I encouraged Wally to buy him as a very green six year old horse, and helped him with the training as much as I could (I had a nursing baby at the time). So I know Twister well.

Twister didn’t have a good start. He was raised on a ranch in the Dakotas and was traded to a horse trader as an unbroken four year old as a part of a deal for a horse trailer. This trader sent him to a ranch cowboy to be started and by all accounts the cowboy did not care for this sensitive, hot colt, who is mostly running bred QH. After sixty days with the cowboy, the horse trader sent Twister to a young team roper who trained horses on the side with the instructions to make the horse into a “ninety day wonder”. In other words, turn this extremely green five year old into a team roping horse in three months.

The young roper complied. It wasn’t pretty. Apparently Twister became so frazzled he repeatedly tried to jump out of the round pen. The roper’s solution? He had his help wait on the other side of the fence with a shovel and beat Twister on the head when he tried to jump out. Twister still has scars on his face and neck from this treatment.

When Wally and I first saw Twister, my uncle had bought the horse from the horse trader. Twister was six years old, and you could rope and turn a steer on him. He was honest and tried hard. He was also very flightly and ignorant as hell.

Twister did not know how to give his head (at all) or hold the lope, or take a lead, or pretty much anything. He’d been “cowboyed” into the very intense job of team roping horse and he had no “foundation” whatsoever. He was also pretty darn standoffish and leery of people (understandably).

Wally bought Twister and taught him to be a reasonably well broke horse and a darn good competitive team roping horse, as well as a fine trail horse. I’ve blogged about Twister’s story before, so I won’t go into detail here. But Twister has been treated kindly and fairly all the years he’s been with us and though he still retains some of the mannerisms of a “ranch broke” horse, its apparent that he trusts us and is fond of us. But he never nickered.

I’m not sure why. All the other horses here nicker at me when I come to feed. Twister never did. Just stood by his feeder and pawed the ground. The other horses nicker to me and Wally all the time. Just talking to us. Not Twister. He never spoke.

And then, the other day I got Sunny and Henry out for my son and I to ride. When we were done, I turned them loose to graze, as I usually do. After I caught them and put them away, I turned my retired horse, Plumber, loose to graze for awhile—again, as I usually do. I don’t normally turn Twister out. My property is fenced on three sides, on the fourth side the barrier is just steep brushy hills. No horse has ever attempted to leave that way, but I’m still careful. I turn the horses loose one at a time and I never do it unless I’m here. I check every so often to make sure the loose horse is visible. My three horses are very sedate and have never given me any problems with this system. Twister is a much more flighty individual, and, of course, he is not my horse, so I am wary of taking any chances with him. Wally hand grazes him from time to time but does not turn him loose.

Anyway, I eventually caught Plumber and put him away—and then I spent a few minutes filling the water trough that Plumber and Twister share. Twister approached me from his side of the corral fence…and he nickered. Very softly, but several times.

I am ashamed to admit that I didn’t even notice…at first. The other horses nicker at me all the time, I was thinking of something else, I paid very little attention.

“What do you want?” I said idly to Twister, and offered to rub his neck. Twister is a horse who likes to be petted, and I guess, if I thought anything, I thought he wanted me to rub on him. But Twister moved off and stood by his corral gate. Then he came back to me and nickered softly.

And I got it. Twister was talking to me. He was, for the first time ever, nickering at a person, and he was trying to convey a very clear message. “You let the other horses out to graze. Now its my turn.”

“You want me to let you out to eat, don’t you?” I said. And I stared at the horse in amazement. Because I wasn’t raised to assume that horses think like this. (See my post, “Henry Speaks.”)

Twister had observed me letting the others out to graze many times, he’d observed the other horses nickering at me and asking for their “turn” (which they do). Somehow he had put all this together and, though he had never nickered at either me or Wally before, he was attempting to tell me he wanted a turn, too.

Well, of course I had to get him out. If nothing else, to show him I understood what he was trying to say. He met me at the gate and I hand grazed him for a good long while. Without Wally’s permission, I wasn’t game to turn him loose. But Twister got his “turn”.

And now I wonder. Do horses think in ways like this all the time and did I never notice? Or do my horses try to talk to me because they’ve learned to trust me? Or do I simply read horses better than I used to? Why did Twister finally “speak”? Any thoughts?

Another Horse Story

by Laura Crum


I don’t usually post two days in a row, but I wanted to share this story and ask if any of you had experienced anything like this. My Sunny horse likes to test me, as I referenced in my earlier post this month (see “Picking a Fight”). Its been raining a lot here and I haven’t been able to ride regularly. But I do have lots of green grass along my driveway, so I’ve been trying to get the horses turned out regularly. Yesterday, I caught Sunny to turn him out for awhile and he tried one of his little games.

Now, Sunny feels good, yes, but he is kept in a large corral (100 by 100), and he runs and bucks and plays as much as he wants. So he is not a mass of pent up energy. When I turn him out he does not run around--he grazes steadily. Like all the horses, he is very eager for his “turn” to be out grazing. When I got him out of his corral yesterday he walked sedately beside me for ten strides, and then (when I wasn’t paying attention—of course) he leapt up in the air and kicked out. One little move. He didn’t touch me; he didn’t tighten the leadrope. By the time I looked back at him he was walking again—with a little gleam in his eye that said he thought he’d won one.

Sunny has pulled this trick before, and I always get after him for it. So I backed him off and whacked him a few times. And I swear, he tossed his head and stamped his front foot at me. Like the herd stallion. It was all I could do not to crack up, but I backed him off a few more times and whacked him until he made mouthing motions and had a submissive expression. He put his nose up to me very gently for a pat, which I gave him. Then I led him off and turned him loose to graze with no further sillieness. This interaction is totally typical of Sunny.

Sunny has many other such minor defiances of varied sorts, but they are all alike in that he never touches me or unseats me (when I’m on him), and they are very calculated on his part. He is never upset—either fearful or excited or angry—when he does them. He does not intend to hurt me. He is testing.

This horse just needs me to do the alpha horse thing. He is never the least bit frightened or truly intimidated when I get after him. It makes him feel secure. I am having to get over my wish that we could just “get along”. No, I must demonstrate my boss mare status every once in awhile or he’s not happy.

Do some of you have horses like this? Are there any tricks you know that can reduce a horse’s need for this sort of correction? I really am very fond of my little yellow mule, and I would love to find a path that works for both of us that doesn’t involve me whacking him, but so far I haven’t managed it. I am unwilling to punish him any more harshly than I do—and I’m pretty sure that it would do no real good, even if I were willing to do it. We get along just fine under the current system. And maybe this behavior of his is here to teach me something, as I said in the “Picking a Fight” post. But I can’t seem to get past my wish that I didn’t have to do this. Any suggestions?

A Quirk

By Laura Crum


My horse, Sunny, has an odd quirk. Its not something I feel I need to fix, and I’m not sure how I’d fix it if I wanted to. It’s a strange behavior, one I haven’t run across before. I thought I’d describe it and ask if anyone else has a horse who does anything like it. Maybe I can learn something.

I bought Sunny two years ago. I knew his background—he’d come from old Mexico via a horse trader, and was brought into this county by a team roping friend of mine (see Sunny’s photo on the sidebar). Sunny was a mediocre team roping horse, but a steady reliable mount and “cute”, and my friend sold him to a woman who wanted a trail riding horse for her daughter. I knew the woman slightly and knew that her daughter and various other beginners used Sunny for many trail rides during the three years she owned him. Nobody ever came off of him. However, the woman’s daughter outgrew her interest in horses and Sunny was for sale. I needed a gentle bombproof trail horse to give my son a lead as we began trail riding together, and my old gelding, Plumber, was too jiggy and spooky to be the right one. So I bought Sunny.

Sunny proved to be just what I needed on the trail. He is steady, quiet and reliable…you can ride him anywhere. Up and down steep, tricky trails, in the surf, across muddy little creeks, along busy streets, you name it. He rarely spooks, he does not jig to speak of. But he does have one little quirk, which I have never really figured out.

The very first time I took Sunny on a trail ride, he gave his usual stellar performance. I was very happy with him. We were almost home and the horse and I were both relaxed, at the flat-footed walk. Crossing a piece of level, sandy ground, Sunny, for no apparent reason, “caught himself”, and gave a very minor crowhop. He did not put his head down, he just hopped his butt in the air and scooted forward a stride. And then he was fine. It was a nothing, but it was odd.

I was puzzled. I checked to see if the back cinch had flanked him. No. I looked down to see if he’d stepped on a stick or something prickly. But there was nothing there. I kicked him up to a lope to see if he was planning on trying me. He loped off like a gentleman. I shrugged and rode on home, figuring it was just a momentary aberration.

But Sunny’s quirk persisted. He didn’t do it every ride. But maybe one ride in six, he’d have a little “moment” like this. I hardly knew what to call it. He never put his head down. He was never really out of control. He never came remotely close to unseating me. He always walked off quietly when he was done. But he also didn’t quit doing it. It was annoying rather than threatening, and at first I mostly ignored it. But I got curious.

I couldn’t figure out why he was doing it. It always occurred very near the end of the ride. Sunny would have been calm, quiet and cooperative throughout the ride, as he always is. He might have had to pass various spooky/difficult stuff, and he was reliably steady. And then, when we were almost home, for no apparent reason, he’d do his little thing.

Sunny’s quirk could take many forms. If there was a horse behind him, it would appear that he was kicking at that horse. If my neighbor’s tractor struck a rock as we rode by he would appear to be spooking at the sound. If I had to kick him up to a lope as we crossed the road, he would seem as if he were attempting to bolt. Sometimes he just appeared jiggy for a few minutes and hopped his butt around. But I was aware that all these behaviors were various manifestations of his quirk. I just didn’t understand why he did it.

It felt as if he were giving me the finger. If I could put words to his gesture, I thought they might have been, “OK, I’ve taken you on one more ride. I came through for you. But I’m nobody’s sweet little pony. Get it?”

This made sense as far as it went, but I failed to see why he needed to do it. We get along well for the whole ride and then at the end he needs to give me the finger? Why?

I remained puzzled by Sunny’s quirk. He continued to do it once every few rides. I could never predict when. Sometimes when he was fresh, sometimes when he’d been ridden a lot. Always very near the end of the ride, but not in the same place every time. He never made any effort to get me off—that clearly wasn’t the point. But it was a gesture of defiance—it did have some negative component, that seemed obvious.

It was annoying and puzzling. I tried punishing him for it. This made him a little jiggy when he was about to do it; he was gearing up both to make the gesture and be punished. I could feel when he was about to do it (due to the increased energy) and I sometimes just stopped him and made him stand. When I had time, I turned him around and went back out for another ride. None of these things made much impression that I could see; Sunny’s quirk remained the same. Every few rides he produced his crowhop (for lack of a better word). Once he made his little gesture, he walked calmly and quietly home.

So here I am, after two years of owning and riding this horse, still no wiser as to why he needs to do this. Sunny clearly gets along well with me, he nickers when he sees me, he comes through when I need him. But he retains this odd behavior. As I began by saying, I’m not sure I need to fix it, or how I would fix it if I wanted to. But it interests me. I would be fascinated to hear if anyone else has had experienced something like this and what your take on it might be.

Personalities Plus

Horses like people have all kinds of personalities. They get into funks, have good days and bad days and their memories are better than an elephants! They truly are amazing creatures.

In our barn we have a multitude of different personalities. I like to just go and hang out with the horses and study them, really watch their behavior.

In the main barn we have Hank. Hank is a gorgeous paint who is very sweet, yet cautious. I look in Hank's eyes and I watch him as he tries to figure out who and what he can trust in this world. He reminds me of a wounded child who really wants to do the right thing and awaits a cruel punishment if he should ever do anything out of line. Hank's choices were limited when he came to the barn. He was bought at auction for a mere sum and he could have easily wound up in the hands of the killers. Charros had owned him prior and by the visible scars on his sides and face, it is obvious he was badly abused. I didn't know him when he first came to the barn because we didn't yet have our horses there, but it is my understanding you couldn't stand on his right side, touch his nose, or aproach him in any way other than very slowly, and his fear of men was a major issue. However, through Terrie's (see our new eq ink member) patience and loving hand, in a few short years, Hank has been transformed. He loves a kiss on the nose, he allows you to stand on his right side, and he's even allowing some men to be around him (he actually let my husband give him a kiss on the nose recently!). This horse is an amazing success story as Terri is now doing dressage and jumping with him both in the arena and out on the cross country course. His personality is truly one of sweetness and light.

Next to Hank lives Pete. Pete is the king of the castle. We even call him His Royal Highness. He is now 21 years old and is a fantastic teacher for some of us lowly riders. In his prime Pete did fourth level dressage and competed in three day. He's just cool. You know when you walk up to someone and think, "Wow, he's just cool." That's Pete. It's like he's got in under control. He knows it and you know it. The other horses know it, too. He also has an expectation to be treated as the king that he is. He likes his cookies and lots of pats and reminders telling him how wonderful he is. Pete has earned the respect of the barn, and he deserves it.

Then we have Tahoe. Tahoe is a wonder pony. He's 26 now and is the pony club dude. I can't remember how many kids have ridden this pony for various ratings but it's A LOT. He kind of has this "I can do that," attitude. No pretention, no strange quirks. He's who he is and he's happy go lucky, does his job, and likes to hang out. He's like the kind of guy you'd want to hang with, have a beer and watch Sunday football because he's just a good friend type. You know you can always count on Tahoe--loyalty and friendship are his strong traits.

Across from Tahoe is Isis. Hmmm....what can I say about Isis? Okay, she is a tad neurotic, and maybe a little bit of a hypochondriac. For instance if you don't pay any attention to her and you're giving another horse attention, she sulks in the corner of the stall and actually has been known to feign colicking (no lie). She is a head bobber. When she's bored or anxious that head and neck look like she's bobbing for apples. But she is a very sweet girl, just really sensitive and if she were a human being I'd probably suggest a little counseling to help her get to know herself a bit better.

Then you have Krissy (my mare). Krissy is also kind of needy like Isis. She goes back and forth between needing you and then playing alpha mare. If she's out in the paddock with the pony she bosses him like nobody's business, but if he's not out there with her she's crying and having a fit. When she hears my voice, she nickers and paces until she spots me. She seems to understand that I am Mom, as she loves to be told how beautiful and special she is by me, and she loves to rub her face all over me. She lives next to Maxim whom she adores and whom in no way shape or form is she going to allow Isis to get close to, and she does not like Isis to get near me either. We are hers and hers alone. Ironically though, she has no problem with me getting near Maxim--her boyfriend. Now take Max down to the paddock where she can't see him and she is not a happy girl. That's my girl--a giver and a taker. Plus, she likes to share jokes with me--see photo.

Maxim is one I really don't quite have figured out yet. He's like the strong silent type until he's out in the arena or in a paddock where he can burn off energy and show off a bit. He doesn't come across as a bully or show off in his house but put him out with Tahoe and he makes sure the old boy knows he is the boss, and put a mare out there in the arena with him and he picks himself up and blows himself out as if to say, "Look at me, aren't I gorgeous!" I think he doesn't remember sometimes that he's been gelded.

Chief is a 16.2 hands baby. He just turned five and the best way I can describe Chief is he's like the little boy who has his hand in the cookie jar and his mom is staring at him, and scolding him for getting nto the cookies after she's told him not to, and Chief is standing there with his big, innocent brown eyes saying, "I don't know what you are talking about. I am not getting any cookies. I was counting them for you. I promise." I love this horse because he is super sweet, yet mischevious. His mischief makes him even more endearing.

Finally we have Monty. Monty is my daughter's pony. He really just wants to get it right. He's kind of spoiled (likes to bang the posts at dinner time--("Hurry up, feed me. Can't you see I'm starving!"), but he also understand his job is to take care of his kid and he does it very well. He loves his little girl. You can see it in his eyes when she's around him. Like Hank, he also has some war wounds from his past and he can be wary of men. He is a gentle soul who likes to be told he's loved and he's special. I adore this pony because he tries so hard and does his job so well that he has a very special place in my heart.

I gave a run down of the horses in our barn because I think they are all fascinating, wonderful horses and each one has something different to give and share with us. All we have to do is take some time out to watch and listen. And for me, just by paying attention to their behavior and treating them with love and respect, I have learned so much about life, love, and friendship.

I'd love to hear about your horse(s) and their personalities, their behavior and who they are and what they mean to you. Please share!

Have a wonderful holiday wekend and happy riding.

Michele

http://www.michelescott.com/