Book Review Offer and What Do We Want In a Horse?

by Laura Crum


Yep, you can get a free review copy of my new book, “Going, Gone,” if you email Susan Daniel at susan@danielpublishing.com and agree to review the book on your blog. I hope all you horse bloggers take my publisher up on this offer and I look forward to reading your reviews. There is a brief description of the book on the sidebar here, and you will find a synopsis on my website www.lauracrum.com Those of you who have enjoyed my previous books and my blog posts here on EI will probably enjoy “Going, Gone.” There is a great deal in the book about horses and how we interact with them, and it is Gail’s horsemanship that saves her life in the climactic scene.

And this brings me to my subject for this post. The other day I stopped to think awhile about the question of what we want from our horses and how that changes at different times in our lives. When I was younger I wanted a talented horse who could win at cutting or team roping. I was careful to train and ride my horses such that they could execute the moves necessary to perform these events. I wasn’t particularly concerned with whether they were bombproof trail horses. I didn’t mind a certain amount of spooky, ampy behavior or a coldbacked horse who wanted to crowhop. I could deal with it. As long as the horse performed well in my chosen event, I was fine with it.

How things have changed. After taking almost ten years off to have and rear a child, I am now a 52 year old woman who wants to trail ride with her young son. I’m not interested in competing. I am interested (very much) in not getting hurt. I am very, very interested (I can’t overstate this) in my kid not getting hurt. I love riding through the hills of my home and taking in the beauty of the landscape. The only thing I really care about in a horse is that he be a completely reliable bombproof trail horse, one who can go anywhere and handle all the odd things that come up “outside” with aplomb. Not spooking is big. Never panicking is essential. I am completely unwilling to deal with any horse who might even consider bucking me off. I have no confidence that I could come off a horse at this point in my life and not be hurt.

So I acquired two horses that fit this description. My son and I are enjoying the heck out of them on the trail. We go everywhere on them…through the muddy creek, across the busy roads, up and down steep hills on narrow switchback trails, past the llama pen (and the goats and the geese and the little bitty ponies), in the surf at the beach, by the dirt bikes, you name it. Are they well broke? Uhmm, Henry’s not too bad, Sunny is not something to brag about. My two little trail horses can walk, trot, lope around an arena, they stop decently, they back, they have a nice neck rein, you can open and close a gate from their backs, they know how to turn with a cow (if you’re not in a hurry). That’s about it. You can rope off both of them (though we don’t). I would have sneered at them in my competitive days. Now I love them.

Contrary to what you might suppose, neither of these horses is a “plug”. They do not tune out the outside world, they are not dull and unresponsive. Both horses go down the trail with their ears pricked forward, stepping out briskly, watching everything and showing every sign that they are happy, alert, and interested in what is going on around them. They notice everything, but are confident enough in themselves and their riders that they don’t need to overeact. Neither of them shows this alert demeanor for arena work, which leads me to the simple conclusion that these intelligent critters feel the same way about going around and around in circles as I do. (They usually like to lope until the edge is off and they like chasing cattle—just like me.) In short, I’m finding that these two gentle, willing, bombproof trail horses are not desensitized to the world around them. They’re not tuning it out. They are both very alert and aware of their enviroment and quite interested in it (if its interesting). They are just confident and they trust their riders, answering the rider’s cue even when faced with “scary stuff”. For my purposes, this is a good thing. The fact that the horses are calm and not over reactive is a good thing. If I wanted to show them as cutting horses it would not be such a good thing. My old cutting horse, Gunner, was very prone to sudden ten foot sideways leaps when going down the trail. Fortunately at that time in my life this didn’t bother me—Gunner never did drop me (it was close many times, though). What made Gunner a good cutter made him a very spooky trail horse.

My two current trail horses are both willing to ignore unfortunate accidental rider cues. If my son loses his balance and kicks or pulls on Henry when he doesn’t mean to, Henry does not overeact and freak out. Henry understands the “signal” to mean nothing and he pretty much ignores it. From my point of view, this is a good thing. Again, if I wanted to go back to team roping on Henry, I would need to “remind” him that he needs to pay attention to my cues. But for what we do, a little tuning out of aberrant rider cues is not a bad thing. Both horses are completely obedient when it counts, if a little lazy when it comes to lots of boring arena work. Does this make them dull and desensitized? In a way. But it’s a way that works for me.

Looking back at my own life with horses I began to realize that there is no such thing as one good way that a horse should be. There is no one best training method. Some people can and do tolerate horses that are truly dangerous…and don’t mind. (We used to call these guys the “real hands”.) They don’t care if a horse stands still to be mounted, or if he wants to buck, or if he leaps ten feet sideways when a leaf blows by. They value his ability to cut a cow or go down the fence or some such thing. Some people want a gentle horse that stands still to be mounted and carries them reliably and willingly through the hills (this would be me these days). Some people really want and need a horse that is gentle and polite about taking treats and being brushed…cause that’s all they want to do. They don’t want to ride. They want to pet the horse. I might have looked down on these people at one time. No more.

The more I see the more I realize that there are as many different ways to be happy with horses as there are people, and if your way is working for you than I think it is a good way. There will always be someone who wants to tell you what you “ought” to be doing with your horse, or what you ought not to be doing. If you are unhappy with your interactions with your horse then it pays to get advice and help from one or more of these experts and change what you are doing until it is working for you. But I no longer believe that the horseman who is quite happy petting and feeding treats to his/her gentle well behaved pony is in any way lesser to the tough guy who can win at a cutting, reining or roping. Its who is happier with their horses that counts. Who is treating their horses right, retiring their old ones, showing compassion for all. Its whose horses are happier that may in the end count for the most. (I’m talking karma here folks.) If a given “trainer” uses harsh methods and seems to glorify flighty, spooky, half scared horses that are great performers at his/her event, and this trainer, say, is uninterested in gentle, reliable, kind horses that willingly pack their rider down the trail, maybe we who like gentle, reliable, kind, bombproof horses need to move on. I know I have learned a whole new way of evaluating horses and picking out what will work for me since I've been riding with my son.

If any of you have insights to share on how your goals have changed over the years since you’ve been involved with horses, I’d love to hear them. Do you find that you select different horses now and work with them differently? I know I’ve been amazed by how much my own goals and methods have changed and equally surprised by how much I enjoy my horses now…there’s so much less stress involved compared to the days when I was competing. (Of course, the current amount of mud in my corrals is pretty much creating the same level of mental stress that it always has—so I guess you can’t win them all.) Any thoughts on this? Have any of you moved on to a new trainer because the former one no longer fit your goals and needs? Or realized that you don’t need a trainer any more? I’d be interested to hear your ideas on this subject.

Again, for those of you who would like to read my new book, “Going, Gone”, my publisher has agreed to provide free review copies to horse bloggers who will review the book on their blog. Email Susan Daniel at susan@danielpublishing.com with your snail mail address and your blog address and mention that you’d like to review the book and that you will email Susan a copy of the review when you post it on your blog. Susan will be sending the review copies out around March 1st, which is the deadline for this offer. I hope that many of you will take advantage of it, and I look forward to reading your reviews. Cheers--Laura

Get a Free Book

by Laura Crum


That’s right. All you bloggers out there with an active horse blog (by which I mean you update it regularly) can request a free review copy of my new book, “Going, Gone.” Email my publisher (Susan Daniels) at susan@danielpublishing.com and give your blog address, snail mail address, and agreement to post a review of the book on your blog and email Susan a copy of said review when you put it up. The review copies will be mailed out on March 1st (approximately), which is also the deadline for this offer. So get your request in now.

The first review of “Going, Gone” has just come in, and here it is:


Fans of Laura Crum's marvelous series of "equine" mysteries featuring veterinarian Gail McCarthy will certainly remember Lonny Peterson, the guy Gail looked certain to marry during the early years of her literary adventures. So, you can imagine how she'd feel to pay Lonny a visit while on vacation with her husband and child only to discover he's charged with murder.

Naturally, Gail immediately concludes Lonny's innocent and is being framed for the killing of his most recent girl friend and her brother. Will she have time on her vacation to catch the real murderer and help her former lover clear his name? Well, of course she will! But author Crum makes it a most suspenseful and intriguing process, so there's nothing "ho-hum" about this mystery adventure.

I'm an unabashed fan of Laura Crum's mysteries. One obvious reason is that Crum lives in and writes about my home territory--Santa Cruz County, California--where both of us were born and raised. But before I ever came to know Laura, I was a big fan of Dick Francis, his mysteries about horses and the people who deal in them. Though Francis is still writing mysteries with the help of his son, I believe Laura Crum is now doing better "equine" mysteries and should be the heir to Francis' literary domain.

Laura has now written 11 mysteries featuring Gail McCarthy. It has been fun to grow along with Laura and her alter-ego. Gail is now settled into her marriage to husband Blue and raising her little boy, Mac. She's putting on a little weight, but she's certainly not slowing down any--as you will discover in the thrilling climax of "Going, Gone," in which Gail has to ride for her life as the real murderer comes after her bent on putting her out of business forever.

The title comes from the world of horse auctions, which Crum gives us a good taste of while laying out the structure of her mystery plot. The people Lonny is accused of killing were in the auction business and the clues to the real killer are rooted in that world, which Gail has to explore on her own without much help from law enforcement.

This is a fast-moving mystery thriller that you won't want to put down once you're into it. It won't be officially published until April 5, but you can order it now on Amazon.com and the other online book retailers. It's published by Perseverance Press, an imprint of John Daniel & Co., in the larger format trade paperback edition with the slick cover. List price is $14.95, but you will be able to get it for less online.

Perseverance Press has rounded up quite a few of the better series mystery writers who lost their publishers in the recent market reshuffling by the big publishers. It also carries the mysteries of Lora Roberts, Carolyn Wheat, Jeanne M. Dams, Hal Glatzer and several more. These are clean, handsome volumes that will look fine in your mystery library.

They've kept the Gail McCarthy series alive and well, which has made me more than happy to do business with them.

©2010 by Ron Miller.

Ron Miller is a former nationally syndicated television columnist and the author of "Mystery! A Celebration," the official companion book to PBS' "Mystery!" series. He most recently was the television columnist for MYSTERY SCENE magazine.

Perseverance Press/John Daniel & Co.
http://www.danielpublishing.com/perseverance
Award-Winning Traditional Mysteries for the New Golden Age
Spring 2010: GOING, GONE by Laura Crum and MIDNIGHT FIRES by Nancy Means Wright

Reader's Write Saturday--Susan Spence

This Saturday, I'd like to welcome Susan Spence, who's written a western love story.

Remember, you can send your posts for Readers Write to me at jamidavenport@att.net. I thought we migth add another fun twist to this, perhaps to be posted on another day. How about a Internet barn tour with pictures of the exterior, interior, especially stalls, and tack room? It can be your barn or a barn in your area that you like. I can start with my barn as soon as I get time to take some pictures. I designed it myself, and I can tell you what I love about it and what I wouldn't do over.

Anyway, welcome, Susan!
__________________________

My book doesn't have an equestrian theme specifically, but the hero's horse is, well, a hero's horse. It takes place mainly in Montana in the open range ranching days of the 1880s. It's a western, but also a love story. It is historically accurate and since I have ridden most of my life and also driven horses, I can describe these things. My attempt was to portray life during these times, as well as create an exciting read.
The feedback I've been getting from both men and women has been incredible. The hard part for me has been getting it out there, not only because I'm somewhat of an introvert, but because it is self-published on a shoe string budget. Anyway, here's an excerpt:
Theodore Lavold had always wanted to go west... One day he made up his mind. A wealthy businessman came into his store and began talking about what he believed was the future of the town. He thought the way to make money was to start selling the newly manufactured luxuries people seemed more able to afford. Theodore offered to sell him the store on the spot.
...Elizabeth was as shocked as Lavina was thrilled. She looked around her comfortable home, wondering why on earth her husband and daughter would want to leave it. In the end she agreed to take her family west mainly because her husband once again had the fire in his eyes she had seen when she met him twenty-five years earlier.


Rinsing the mud out of her sons' clothing using a basin on the washstand in a hotel room in a frontier town, Elizabeth Lavold realized why her daughter had never been interested in her suitors back east. None of them had that fire in their eyes, no real passion for living. That was what Matt Daly had. Suddenly she was proud of her daughter.


A Story of the West is available through bookstores, from Amazon, or if you want a signed copy contact me.at storyofwest@itstriangle.com. It's also available as an ebook. Contact me to order one of those also.

I am currently at work on a sequel (ride in the summer, write in the winter, what a life!).

An Old Cowboy and a Blaze-faced Horse

by Laura Crum


Led and Lad. That’s who I’ve been thinking about lately. Led was the cowboy who taught my uncle to rope. And Lad was the horse who taught me to ride. The two of them are connected in more than one way.

Led was the last working cowboy on a famous old ranch in these parts. In the end this ranch became a state park, and Led ended up living on my uncle’s small horse ranch. Led was not only a working cowboy, but also a competitive rodeo team roper—in the 1940’s. As an old man, he taught my uncle, just beginning his team roping career, the value of a good rope horse. And thus we come to Lad.

Previous to Led’s instruction, my uncle, raised on a dairy ranch, bought cheap trading horses and tried to rope on them. The horses had no experience and neither did my (then young) uncle. The results were not spectacular. It was Led who began to teach my uncle the basics of team roping and helped him to find and buy Lad, a registered Quarter Horse who had been trained to be a competitive team roping horse.

Lad may have been the first registered horse my uncle bought. For sure he was the most expensive horse my uncle had ever purchased to that date. Lad cost six hundred dollars, the equivalent of six thousand these days, a fair price for a middle of the road rope horse.

Lad was not a fancy horse. Foundation bred and fairly coarse and common looking, Lad was dark brown and had a plain head and a big blaze. He had been raised on a ranch and was nobody’s pet. But he knew his job and was well broke enough that a kid could ride him (and I did—though he spooked occasionally and dumped me once in awhile). Lad and another old rope horse named Tovy effectively taught me to ride.

Both Led and Lad were a constant part of my life for many years when I was young. The old man and the horse gave me the background that is still my basic footing in the horse biz. They knew, none better, the true cowboy way. They were tough, effective, fair, unsentimental critters, and from them I gained a sensibility I still have, though I’ve modified it a bit over time.

My uncle, the most unsentimental of the lot, did give Lad a good long retirement and kept him until he died. As for Led, his story is sadder. In his old age he fell in love with a young woman and left my uncle’s place to live with her. She eventually found a younger man and essentially threw the old cowboy out, leaving him to end his days with a nephew who lived in a big city. Led wrote me a letter before he died, saying that he little thought he’d meet his end so far from horses and all that he’d loved. I wrote him back, but I knew that no words of mine could change the pain of that situation.

I often think of Led and Lad and am grateful for the tradition and way of life that they brought to me. Though Led was an old man when I knew him, we often talked horses together, and I learned a great deal from him. And the knowledge he passed to my uncle, my uncle passed to me. From the time I was very young, I knew how to tie a proper horseman’s knot and how to get along with a snorty old rope horse (this would be Lad). I rode my uncle’s many trading horses, I brought in the cattle, I helped my uncle start young horses. By the time I was eighteen, I was starting colts on my own. I spent two years working on a commercial cattle ranch and several summers working for a mountain pack station. When I went to work for professional horse trainers in my late twenties, I had a background that helped me to evaluate what I saw and take the parts that worked for me and discard the rest. Eventually I progressed to training my own cutting horse and competing on him (reasonably successfully-—see my previous posts titled “Winning” and “Once Upon A Time” for that story), and finally to breaking and training team roping horses for myself and my friends. I made some pretty nice rope horses, if I say so myself. And it was essentially because of Led and Lad that I had this knowledge.

Today, it is this foundation that helps free me to make my own choices. Because I know how the cowboy thing is really done, I’m not buffaloed by others’ opinions. I feel comfortable following my own path. If I enjoy trail riding on my steady bombproof horse (wearing my cozy Ugg boots) and don’t need to compete and train any more, I’m OK with myself about that. And I owe this confidence very largely to the old cowboy and the blaze-faced horse. I still take my son to the roping arena to ride with my uncle and the other ropers, even though I no longer care to rope. But I want my son to absorb the same tradition I absorbed, to learn how the thing is done from people who can really get the job done. I’m hoping this will free him and give him confidence, just as it has for me. (And no, I’m not saying that team ropers are more skilled than people of other horse disciplines. By and large—this is a generalization—they are practical, competent horsemen—if you really can’t ride and deal with a horse it is pretty much impossible to go full blast down the arena and rope and turn a steer. Thus the event itself weeds out those who have no horsemanship skills at all. On the other hand, many ropers know little about the fine points of working with a horse and their horsemanship can be a pretty crude thing. However, people who rope have to do more than just talk the talk.)

I’m guessing that lots of you in other horseback disciplines have had a mentor or a special horse that really gave you a grounding in the horse biz. Certainly many people who write in here have given very helpful, insightful opinions in the past, when it comes to training and relating to horses, and just life in general. Anybody have any stories to share on this subject? I’d love to hear your take on it.

PS--It’s a good thing I’ve got an indoor activity right now, as it has rained non-stop for almost ten days and no riding is happening here at all. My riding ring looks like a holding pond. My hairy, muddy horses are squelching through the slop. So far all are sound, healthy, eating well, keeping their weight on… knock on wood. The saddle horses don’t seem to mind the break from work. My thirty year old pasture pets are warm and dry under their blankets. During a brief lull yesterday I pulled on my rubber boots and walked around all corrals and pastures, ascertaining that every horse does have plenty of dry ground where he can get out of the mud (and I could see by the signs that they were spending time there). So things are going reasonably well, considering. But it is not fun horsekeeping weather.

It is, however, ideal weather for writing, and I have been getting quite a bit of writing done on book #12. And, as you can see by the sidebar, I’m also getting ready to announce the arrival of book #11. Yep, “Going, Gone” comes out this spring; I’ve put a short synopsis on my website, for those who are interested. This book centers around the murder of a livestock auctioneer, and involves a rescue horse, nefarious kill buyers, and a heroic horse blogger, as well as a thrilling (if I say so myself) horseback chase scene, so there should be something there for everybody. Not to mention “Going, Gone” features illustrations by Janet Huntington of Mugwump Chronicles, so all you fans of mugwump won’t want to miss her very nice drawings.

The book will be available in April, and I believe that you can already preorder it from Amazon and/or the publisher. However, I am planning to announce a special offer for horse bloggers only, so stay tuned for that. Until then, stay dry. Cheers--Laura

Dressage Books for the Heart and Soul

I thought I'd mention a few of my favorite dressage books which have nothing to do with dressage theory. Some of them may be out of print or hard to find. These are books that delve into the artistic and spiritual side of dressage and that elusive connection with a horse that transcends the physical.

Riding Towards the Light by Paul Belasik: Mr. Belasik writes books that go beyond theory. I've always enjoyed his books and the insight they provide. This particular book delivers an account of his apprenticeship with the horse, which lasted 13 years. He struggles to discover the ultimate truths behind dressage riding and offers some disturbing and valuable insights. Mr. Belasik has written an entire series of books, all of which I recommend.

Beyond the Mirrors by Jill Keisser Hassler: I love this book. I've read it and re-read it several times. Ms. Hassler died from cancer a few years ago. His son is well-known dressage rider, Scott Hassler. This book book explores the spiritual and mental benefits of dressage riding. It's an uplifting, enjoyable book.

My Horses, My Teachers by Alois Podhojsky: Mr. Podhojsky writes about his connections with various horses over the years and what they taught him. A former director of the Spanish Riding School during the 1940's, he tells a story of his life with horses, their personalities, and the valuable knowledge he gained from each animal.

Dressage for the New Age by Dominque Barbier: An enjoyable read which discusses how to cooperate with your horse on a mental plane, not just a physical plane.

The Ethics and Passions of Dressage by Charles De Kunffy: A reader can always depend on Mr. De Kunffy to present a thought provoking and sometimes controversial view of dressage riding. This book doesn't disappoint.

Dressage Masters by David Collins: This compendium of techniques and philosophies of some of the world's most legendary dressage trainers includes beautiful, full-color pictures.

Dressage Rider's Survival Guide by Margaret Odgers: It's my understanding that this book developed via conversations on the Ultimate Dressage Bulletin Board. This book won't give you a spiritual lift or re-define how you communicate with your horse. Instead, it'll make you laugh as it pokes fun at dressage and those of us who at times take it way too seriously. I loved this book and definitely identified with the situations and people.

The above books are from my dressage library. I'm guessing there are more, but I haven't read them or seen them (hard to believe). Anyway, I'd like to cover books next time (dresage and otherwise) which are biographies of the authors' journeys with horses.

One Horse's Story

by Laura Crum


In the discussion following my last post stillearning raised some great points about the issue of selling a horse you feel you can no longer keep. She referenced the idea that it may just be ego that tells us we are the only ones who can deal with this horse’s issues. I agreed with her that there may very well be others who can deal with the horse’s issues as well or better than we can, but is their loyalty to the horse going to be as high as ours, who trained him and owned him for many years? Perhaps he worked his butt off for us, acquiring his issues along the way. I suggested that we owe him at least keeping track of him and taking him back if need be, to be sure he doesn’t come to a bad end. And I referenced my first horse, Jackson, who was mentioned in my previous post.

Well, it occurred to me this morning, reading stillearning’s last comment, that Jackson makes a great illustration of the point I am trying to make. So here is his story.

I bought Jackson when I was fifteen years old. I had saved my money for many years and hounded my parents, and I was finally permitted to buy a horse of my own. My cowboy uncle was my trusted advisor. We tried many horses, but my uncle liked Jackson, who looked like a rope horse (15.3 and strongly made). We found the horse through an add in the paper; he was dirt cheap, and the woman who owned him said he was gentle. She’d owned him for two years, she said. He was fourteen years old. She was clearly a novice, and was able to walk, trot, lope the horse around her little ring. My uncle and I rode him and we bought him that day. That’s all in the world we knew about him.

I owned Jackson for three years. He turned out to have some issues. Though gentle to walk, trot, lope around a ring, he did not care for solitary trail rides and would rear vertically to make his point clear. I dealt with it. If put under pressure to load, have his feet worked on, and at certain other times, he would kick out, hard. I learned to be careful. He did not care for being a rope horse and tried some pretty violent evasions. Fortunately nobody was hurt.

When I had owned him three years, I decided I wanted to buy a young horse to train. I was not so attached to Jackson and sold him, as my previous post describes, to the riding school where I used to take lessons. The fact that he did not end up at the saleyard is pure luck. (See my post--"What Do We Owe Them?" for more on this.)

Here’s my point. When I was trail riding Jackson one day I met a middle aged lady on a horse. She looked at my mount and asked me his name. When I told her she said, “I raised that horse and trained him myself.”

I kept quiet about the training.

She asked where I got him and I told her.

She said, “I sold him to that gal when he was twelve. She was just a beginner and wanted a gentle horse. I sold him cheap because she said she’d give him a good home.”

And I could tell this lady was not pleased. She had not expected that her horse would be sold again in two years. And this time to a fifteen year old girl. But she had clearly not kept track of the horse. And she did not offer to buy him back if I wanted to sell him. She simply rode on, on the younger horse she now had.

When Jackson was seventeen I sold him to a riding school. I was tired of his issues, which were not of my making. As I said, it is simply luck that he didn’t end up at the sale and get bought by the killbuyers. So, I think it is a point worth making, that, as long time owners and trainers of a horse, we may have a little more loyalty to that horse and an acceptance of his issues, since we know exactly how he got them. They are usually due to our own choices. Someone who has owned the horse for a couple of years and didn’t create his problems may feel quite free to pass him on. It may not be ego to suppose that we are more likely to take good care of this horse when he gets old and give him the retirement and dignified death we might feel we owe him in exchange for all the years of work he has done for us.

Again, I’m not suggesting that we all need to keep all of our horses. I know its not always possible. I am wondering, however, if we don’t owe our horses something, if we have owned them a long time, and made the choices that created the issues they have, lameness or otherwise. I guess I’m asking if we don’t at least owe it to keep track of them and be sure that they don’t come to a bad end. Which means be willing to take them back. The problem, however, which I understand very well (because its happened to me), is that we often get these horses back when they really have no more useful riding horse years left, but may have many years as a pasture pet…which is all about taking care of them and writing checks to pay for their care…and not about riding and having fun. So, there’s the question in a nutshell. Do we owe them that?

I am asking a question--I'm not saying I know the answer. My own opinion, for what it's worth, is that I do owe my horses that, and if it's financially impossible for me to keep my retirees any more (which may well happen), then I owe them that dignified death. I am not at all adverse to letting someone else care for them (and write the checks) as long as I continue to be responsible for them and have enough control over their fate to be sure they don't end up starved or otherwise abused (or dumped at the sale.)

As always I welcome hearing your thoughts on this. Its a complicated subject, because we all have different circumstances. And yet everyone who has owned a horse for a long time will probably understand how critical it is that we as responsible horsemen give some real thought to what we owe these horses.


We’re still looking for more authors to feature on our Reader’s Write Saturdays. Send us a short piece of fiction, your favorite blog post from your own blog, or anything you think might interest our readers. Send it to Jami at jamidavenport@att.net

What Do We Owe Them?

by Laura Crum


The other day I was thinking about the riding school where I took lessons as a kid. And I began to remember my favorite lesson horses. Melody and Gypsy, the two old mares who were my mounts when I was just a beginner. Dusty, a horse I actually progressed to jumping three and a half foot fences on (pretty good for a thirteen year old who had previously only ridden western). Peg, on whom I learned vaulting, and won many a bareback class. And there were others. Rhonde, Uncle Max, Thunder, Freckles…all were my favorite at one time or another.

I took lessons at that riding school for many years. I went to their summer camp program. I knew their horse herd well. And they had almost a hundred horses. They took pretty good care of these horses. The horses were turned out every night in a big pasture and fed hay every morning in the corral; the ones who were to be used were then caught for the day. No horse was thin. Lame horses were not ridden. The horses did get vet care. If a horse was old, that horse only had to give a few lessons a day. Many times I heard the instructors refusing to let the more advanced kids ride Gypsy and Melody, telling them that the old girls should not be used too hard. In short, it was not a bad place.

Still, I have little doubt that when these horses’ time was done, they were hauled to the local saleyard and bought by what, in those days, was called the “chicken man”. The guy who bought horses for chicken food. This was just what most people did at that time. It was taken for granted.

Now, I have a confession to make. I sold my first horse, an ornery bay gelding named Jackson, to this riding school. Jackson was not a particularly endearing or successful first horse—I have written a few times about the fact that he was prone to vertical rears and kicking (under certain circumstances), and that once he kicked me in the head and knocked me out cold. What my parents were thinking to turn me loose on such a creature I can’t imagine. But, if only asked to walk, trot and lope around a ring, Jackson was reasonably gentle. And when I determined to be rid of him and buy myself a young horse to train, I sold him to the riding school where I had taken lessons.

Jackson was a success there. I went up to visit him some years later and he was doing fine, well loved by the little girls who rode him. And no, he didn’t end up at the sale. I heard from a friend who taught there that he was kicked by another horse and suffered a broken leg. He was euthanized by the vet right there on the place. By that time he was over twenty, so, all in all, I’d say things worked out OK for him.

Now I didn’t train Jackson—when I bought him he was fourteen. I owned him for three years. I did not create his problems, and he left me a more cooperative horse than when he came to me. But also, I did not take responsibility for him. When I sold him I left him to his fate. Would I do that now? I’m not sure.

I think of all the horses I rode at the riding school, Gypsy and Melody and Dusty and Peg, all such good horses. I was grateful to them. I thought I loved them. As a child and then a teenager I never thought to ask what would become of them. I never thought of it as my problem.

I think of other horses I owned at one time and then sold. I don’t, to this day, know what their fate was. Did they end up on a truck, bound for slaughter in Mexico? Was the basic trust I tried to instill in them when I owned them completely and finally betrayed? How much might they have suffered? It will always torment me, to some degree.

And this is what I am trying to do differently with my son. We talk a lot about our old, retired horses and why we retire them. We talk about being grateful to our horses and taking care of them until they die. My son goes with me when I feed the retirees. I am trying to show him, both in words and by example, that it is our business what happens to these horses, how they end their lives. It is definitely our problem.

I have no idea what effect this will have, of course. But at the very least I am hoping that when he looks back on the horses that taught him to ride, he will feel good to know that we took care of them and were there for them until the end. I am hoping that we can begin a new pattern. I am hoping that, unlike me, he will be free of this nagging sadness.

I’m grateful that I have had the resources to keep my horses, that I have not been forced to sell them out of financial necessity. But if I did have to sell some horses because I didn’t have enough money to keep them all, it would not be my older horses who would go. No, the horses who worked hard for me all their lives, whose quirks are the results of my training and my choices, these are the ones that I owe. I will honor my debt to them by making sure that they have the retirement they deserve. Its not that I think I am the only one who can take good care of a horse. Its that this is my responsibility, not someone else’s. It is my privilege to do right by these horses.

Believe me, I sure know how tempting it is to decide to offload a horse that is no longer useful to the owner. Its so easy to develop a convincing rationale for doing what would be most covenient for us, the human in charge. Maybe the horse is old, maybe it has issues, lameness or otherwise. For whatever reason, we, the owner, no longer want to ride this horse. And so often we have other, younger horses that we’d rather ride. Our older horse is taking up space, or costing us money, or taking time (usually all three) that we would rather devote to these younger horses that are our current interest. And so we decide to find the older horse a new home. We rationalize that it could be “better” for the horse, that the horse will get more attention. And sometimes this can be true. But what we are really motivated by is the fact that it will be “better” (more convenient) for us. We are justifying our ready excuses as to why we shouldn’t have to take care of a horse who has served us well and perhaps been injured, physically or emotionally, or perhaps just grown too old for the job we want to do.

I’m not saying that one should never find a new home for a horse. I have “rehomed” several horses in the last ten years that just didn’t fit my needs. But I always took responsibility for these horses. I didn’t sell them. I placed them in homes where I thought they would work. One lived happily in that home until he was retired and eventually euthanized. One is still living happily in his home. Three I had to take back. Why? Were they bad homes? Not at all. In two cases the people lost their jobs and could no longer afford the horse. In one case the woman went through a divorce and could no longer afford the horse. If I had not been there, ready and willing to take the horses back, if I had simply sold them and lost track of them, they would have been sold again. There is no way of knowing where they would have ended up. Thus, I believe that if one wants to rehome a horse and still be responsible, one needs to maintain control of that horse. Usually, this means not selling the horse.

I am currently facing this dilemma with my horse, Plumber, who features in my mystery series. I’ve known Plumber since he was born; I’ve owned him since he was three. I broke him and trained him myself. He’s been a competitive team roping horse since he was eight. He’s won several saddles, lots of money, numerous buckles and awards. He started to slow down at nineteen. Last year, at twenty, we used him very lightly. It became clear near the end of the season that Plumber just didn’t want to run hard any more. He also doesn’t care for steep hills. He’s still sound for walk, trot, lope type work on level ground. But he’s not really a kid’s horse. A little too flighty, inclined to spook and prance, rather full of his own ideas. (And all these issues are no doubt due to my failures as a trainer.) This spring Plumber will be twenty-one. He isn’t going to be much use to me as a riding horse, since I want to trail ride and the country where I live is very hilly. It would be fairly easy for me to find him a home if I gave him away. He’s gentle for an intermediate rider, kind, smooth gaited, no one has ever come off him in his entire life. He’s very safe. Lots of people would enjoy him. It would be convenient for me to have an extra pen and one less horse to take care of. So, am I going to rehome Plumber?

I don’t think so. I owe him. He’s my little horse and he did his best for me. It may not be convenient for me to keep him, but I’m going to, even if I have to eat mac and cheese, or make other sacrifices. I plan to keep him and retire him because I think that’s what would be best for him.

The writer of one blog suggested that horses don’t really get attached to us the way we do to them. No doubt this is true. Plumber nickers whenever sees me, including when he’s in a group of other horses…etc. Is he fine when I’m gone? Sure. But there is also no question that this little horse who has lived in the same big corral here on my property for seventeen years and been hauled to many, many events, and who has covered a great many miles under my saddle, is used to his people and his life. Could he accept change? No doubt. But what if I’m not trying to figure out a solution that’s convenient for me and might be acceptable. What if I want to do the best I can for this horse?

I’m not going to say that I know what’s the best thing for every owner of an older horse to do. I don’t. Plumber won’t get as much attention here as he would if he were somebody’s one special pet horse. I have four other saddle horses at my place that need my attention, as well as my other retired horses.

What I do know is that I accept responsibility for my horse who has done so much for me and seems so bonded to me and his life here. It isn’t about ego and thinking I’m the only one who can do it. Its about love and doing the best we can for the ones we love. Its about hanging in there when it isn’t easy or convenient. That’s what I want to teach my son.

When we sell a horse we lose control over that horse’s fate. That’s a fact. Its possible to rehome a horse and do right by him. As long as we retain control and keep track of how the horse is doing, it can be a good option; we need to be willing and able to take that horse back at any time—or his end may not be so pretty. But there’s a whole nother equation. And that’s about wanting to give back to the ones who gave to us. And yes, it sometimes is about eating mac and cheese (figuratively, anyway). We can delude ourselves that its not about that, but those are meaningless words. Unfortunately its often about making sacrifices so that we can do our best by our horses. Sometimes we need to do things that aren’t easy and convenient for us because its better for someone else. Often we need to stretch ourselves a little and look beyond what comes as the most “logical”, “natural” choice for us, the human owner. Sometimes we need to look at what would be best for a horse who has done a great deal for us. Maybe we need to consider what we owe them. And so I will continue to study on what’s the best path for my horse, Plumber, with an open mind and a willing heart. Because I really want to do what’s best for him….not just what’s convenient for me. And its my belief that Plumber, like me, loves his pleasant life and his companions and his familiar routines. And I don’t plan to take that away from him lightly.

The real question in my mind is whether it would be better for Plumber to turn him out with my other retired horses or keep him here at home and try to give him what attention I can. Plumber is a fussy critter, more like a mare than a gelding, prone to kicking at his companions in the next corral and squealing, and he is very, very used to his routines and very people oriented. In the pasture he would get far less attention, but much more freedom and grazing. The fences in the pasture are not perfect, though they’re decent, but still not as safe as my pipe corrals at home. I have never had a horse seriously hurt in this pasture (knock on wood) in over ten years of horsekeeping there. But I worry. Plumber is not the ideal candidate for turnout. If he made it through the transition, I’m sure he’d be fine, but would this fussy little people oriented horse be happier here or in the pasture?

If anyone would like to chime in with suggestions about the best way to retire a real “people horse”, I’d love to hear them. I’d also be interested in your thoughts concerning rehoming an older horse with issues (whether due to lameness, age or whatever) that are the results of one’s own training and choices.

And don’t forget about our Reader’s Write Saturdays. Send us a post about you and your horse, or short piece of your own fiction, or your favorite blog post from your own blog. Or your take on one of the many subjects we’ve brought up and discussed here. Anything you think might interest our readers. Send it to Jami at jamidavenport@att.net and she’ll post it on the next available Saturday. We’ve very much enjoyed all the contributions so far. We’d be glad to feature you soon.