Once a Farm Girl . . .

by Linda Benson

My husband and I moved to a smaller place earlier this year. I believe it's called "downsizing." After almost half a century owning horses (and donkeys) I now had no equines, and we talked about travel and free time and sitting on the deck sipping mixed drinks. Ha!

After a lovely Spring spent admiring wildflowers and envisioning landscaping our small acreage with more native plants (a satisfying work-in-progress,) I started yammering for more animals. "I want some ducks," I pleaded. "For our canal." Since a lovely meandering irrigation ditch wanders through our place, it would only be more perfect with waterfowl, right?

After many years of marriage, my poor spouse knows that to resist is futile, so in short order we had ducks!

And more ducks!

And of course, after a duck pen, that meant we needed a duck house. And once the duck house was built, it was quite simple to put up a few roosts inside, just in case we might get some chickens.

So, of course, within one more day I found some hens!

Aren't they sweet?

I love all kinds of animals. I could sit outside all day watching the way they interact. A couple of days ago, we acquired one more Rhode Island Red hen, and just like horses (but even more immediately) they established their "pecking order."  The little Buff Orpington hen immediately ran up to the older Red hen and bowed her head, saying "Peck Me, I'm younger and subservient." After two or three pecks, it was over.  The grey hen (a Silver Gray Dorking) ran up and acted like a rooster, dragging her wing on the ground. In no uncertain terms, she established that "she" was the Boss Chicken of this outfit and no one better mess with her. The funny looking young hen in this picture (a Salmon Faverolles) is a bit clueless, and the Red Hen still pecks her from time to time, to get her out of the way at feeding time. But all-in-all, once the pecking order was quickly established, everyone became friends. I wish that humans could get along this well.

Anyway, so much for relaxation and shopping and travel. If you think horses are a lot of work, these chickens and ducks are ridiculous! They have to be let out first thing in the morning. And fed. And watered, because ducks (bless their little hearts) make a mess of their water dishes. And then the ducks have to be let out to go swimming in the canal. And checked on several times a day. And of course one must collect the eggs. And check food and water again.

And then picture me (with a rake in my outstretched arm) gently guiding my ducks up from the canal back to their predator proof pen each evening. "Go to bed, duckies! Time to go to bed!" Then of course they have to be tucked in each evening, with electric wire around them so no foxes, weasels, raccoons, owls, or coyotes will get them.

But I am supremely happy. After a lifetime spent around the demanding schedule of taking care of horses and other animals, I am programmed for this. Because that's what farm girls do. Right? And once a farm girl . . . well, always a farm girl.

Better Homes and Gardens -- NOT

I am at that age when sleeping at night is sometimes challenging. When I do wake up at 3:00 am, I reach for a magazine. A good book with a fast plot will keep me awake, but a magazine tends to help me fall asleep. A friend of mine gets lots of free subscriptions due to airline points so she passes them on: Country Living, Better Homes and Gardens, Good Housekeeping.  I must admit, I love the gorgeous photos of indoor decor and outdoor gardens, and I know the photos are staged, but still, Better Homes and Gardens, I am definitely NOT.

My tomatoes

Better Homes and Gardens Tomatoes

 I have no clue how gardeners grow disease and pest free flowers and vegetables. My zucchini succumbed to squash beetles, and my tomatoes had fungus and stink bugs. My roses have been snacked on by beetles, and the peaches had so many bugs and blights and the squirrels ran off with so many that we ended up harvesting about a fifty edible ones, although the tree had been filled with thousands.

Then there's the inside of the house. The photo on the right tells all. Not that my whole house would be a Hoarders' TV show. But my office qualifies. I tell people it's because I have a business and no warehouse to put inventory. Which is true. I managed to find shelves for anything that's selling on Ebay after I lost an item that had sold because it was in the bottom of one of the piles.  But too many treasures come in while not enough go out, so the stacks keep growing. I don't want to keep this stuff, but sometimes when there is a good deal, I just can't help myself. Finding that unique treasure for a steal is an addiction.   My friends who are also 'dealers' and I laugh about needing Antiques Anonymous. We really do love the stuff. But as anyone knows who has a house, car or horse to sell, it's much easier to buy than sell, especially in this tough economy.  I do yard sales, have three booths, and sell on Ebay, yet my 'inventory' (okay, junk) is overflowing my life.

My kids just hope I don't die and leave it for them to get rid of.  Is your home and garden a "Better Homes and Gardens"?  Anyone else have an out-of-control collection? Please share with a failed gardener and addict!  At least I will know that I am not alone.

My Office --don't you love that wire rack?

Better Homes and Gardens Office

 

Sadness, Old Horses, and a Free Book

                                    by Laura Crum

            My good friend lost her 33 year old horse last week. He had been having problems getting up and finally one day, he was just unable to get up, and she knew it was time. This doesn’t make it easy. Even when we know it is the right time, it is so hard to lose a horse that has been part of your life for many years.

            I, too, have a 33 year old horse. I bought him when he was three years old and had thirty days riding. I trained him myself and competed on him at several different events. The bridle my son uses on his horse, Henry, features a headstall that Gunner won in a cutting contest many years ago. The trophy buckles Gunner and I won together are in the drawer next to my bed.

            Gunner and I covered a lot of miles. Thirty years of him being my horse. Today he is a bit peggy, but pretty sound. Will trot and lope and even buck and spin a little. Here he is in a picture taken just a few days ago –33 years old. He is growing his winter coat, so looks fuzzy, but I think you can see that his weight is still pretty good.

            I know that Gunner probably doesn’t have many years left.      I bought him when I was 25. He’s been with me the whole time since then. He really is part of my family. I treasure every day with him. But there is an underlying sadness. I know our time is limited.

            My other retired horse, Plumber, has had an off again on again slight lameness in his right front for awhile. Every time I get ready to have the vet out, he seems fine. His feet were trimmed recently and we could find no sign of a bruise or any tenderness using the hoof testers. There is no swelling or heat. No sign of an injury. So I’m just keeping an eye on him.

            Here you see my son giving Plumber (a very friendly horse) a little love.

            Winter is coming. Much as I like fall, I can’t help thinking about the rain (and mud) to come. Horse keeping is so much harder in the winter, especially with old horses. I’m kind of dreading it. So I’m a little sad right now. And then again, its Sept 11^th, a day which seems plenty sad enough.

            But, there is much that is good. Sunny enjoys mowing the grass outside the veggie garden…and his bright gold self always makes me smile.

            We go swimming in the ocean on pretty days.

            And we visit the fields where my husband grows begonias—which are in full bloom right now. How pretty is that?

            And there is always riding in the woods.

            Ok, last cheerful thought. My second novel, Hoofprints, will be free as a Kindle edition for the next three days. Starting today, Weds the 11^th, and going through Friday the 13^th (how fortuitous, right?). Hoofprints has always been one of the most popular books in the series, so if you’d like to check out my mystery novels featuring an equine veterinarian as a protagonist, here’s your chance. Click on the title to find the free Kindle edition. Cutter, the first book in the series, is only 99 cents. Again, click on the title to find the Kindle edition.

Using "Force" in Horse Training

                                    by Laura Crum

            My last few posts have generated some interesting comments, so today I would like to take up what seems to be the bottom line when it comes to the difference between NH and traditional horse training. And this appears to be the use of “force.”

            First off, force is going to be a bit tough to define. But for the purpose of this discussion I am going to define force as using firm physical methods to insist that a horse do something he doesn’t want to do, or not do something he does want to do. In other words, to “force” the horse to behave as the handler wishes him to behave.

            Force would include everything from the extreme of beating a horse about the face with a lariat rope until you put out his eye (which I have seen) and just whacking a horse in the shoulder with the end of a leadrope when he tries to push through you on the ground. It would include all kinds of bitting up where the horse is forced to give his head, and swatting a horse with a crop when he balks and won’t go forward. It would also include beating a horse in the face and neck with a shovel, such that he has scars (this happened to Wally’s horse, Twister, before we got him).

            I’m sure you can see from my examples that I believe that force can be used appropriately or in very cruel and inappropriate ways. However, I do believe that force is necessary in effective horse training. The horse must at times be forced to do what he doesn’t want to do, and forced NOT to do what he does want to do, or the horse will never accept the human as leader/boss…whatever word you want to use. In my opinion, this is basic to having a reasonably obedient horse that is safe to ride and handle.

            Now we could go on and on about when force is needed and when it is cruel, and what methods are Ok, and what are cruel, but I don’t think much productive discussion would result. Different methods and degrees of force are needed for every horse. I am absolutely opposed to any sort of force that harms a horse. There are very many sensitive horses that NEVER need any more force than the lightest tap of crop or a bump with the leadrope to get their attention, or even just a sharp/loud word. I have several of these in my barn. And there are those horses that need a firmer approach. I have one of these, too.

            The thing I am interested in here is the basic concept. If I have understood it right, NH methods assume that a horse never needs to be forced to do something against his will. (Please tell me if I am wrong about this.) I can’t see how this could ever work.

            In every horse discipline I know of, including trail riding for pleasure, a horse must sometimes do what he doesn’t want to do. If he is only to do what he can be coaxed to “want” to do, any trail ride will be aborted when a horse has had enough. Let alone all the more demanding things we do with horses.

            I mentioned in the comments on my last post that I once practiced with and showed my cutting horse against Tom Dorrance’s wife, Margaret. Margaret had a lovely mare who enjoyed working cattle, as many horses do. But this mare was only competitive at the intermediate level, in my opinion because she was never pushed past what she freely offered to do. Never spurred to be a little quicker and sharper, or try a little harder. In my current, not-interested-in-competition state, I think that is a very nice way to train a cutting horse. But back in the day when I competed, the hole in that system was quite obvious to me. 

            The thing is, like almost everything else, it’s all about finding the middle ground. There were cutters who spurred and jerked their horses unmercifully, in order to make them try harder. Depending on the skill level of the trainer, this could totally backfire with the result that the horse was so blown up he could not be shown successfully, or, in certain very skillful hands, it could create a world champion. Even in my days of competing, I was never willing to subject my much loved horse to this sort of intense training in order to win. Yes, I spurred him to make him a little sharper. But I refused to take it to the degree where I felt I was taking the fun out of the event for him. It’s a fine line, for sure.

            Today I don’t compete. I trail ride for fun. I don’t ever wear spurs. But I will whack my stubborn little yellow trail horse in the shoulder with the leadrope when he purposely tries to step on my foot, or nips at me, or pushes into my space. I will whack him on the butt if he turns his butt to me when I go out to catch him, or balks on a trail ride. The thing is, because I have been consistently firm with this horse (who has needed more force than my more sensitive, reactive horses), he almost never tries these stunts any more. He is confident in me as his boss/leader, and he trusts me. We get along great. I am quite sure that no one who was unwilling to use any sort of force could ever have had a happy partnership with this particular horse.

            So today I would love to hear from those who do believe that force of some sort is needed in horse training, and from those who don’t believe force should be used. And if you don’t believe force should be used, will you please explain to me how you cope with it when your horse decides that he has had enough and he is turning around and going home now. Or he doesn’t want you on his back and decides to dump you. Or he wants to come out his corral gate and eat grass and you are an obstacle in the way of what he wants. Surely you must use force of some kind to let him know that you are in charge and he must yield to your wishes?

            For those who will insist that force is never needed, I would like to hear how you manage to remain in charge/the leader or whatever you would like to call it. I think we can all agree that the human must be in charge/the leader rather than the horse, if the human is to interact safely with this 1000 pound animal. This is not to say that a wise horseman will not sometimes/often let the horse’s choices stand—I do this myself when it seems appropriate. But it is my decision.

            I also want to say that not all horse training issues can be solved through the use of force. Far from it. If a horse is fearful, usually force is the wrong approach. Though even a fearful horse must learn (usually through some kind of force) that he must still respect your space/obey your cues. If you can’t get this done, you are in very real danger when you interact with such a horse. If a horse doesn’t understand what you want, force is almost always the wrong approach. The use of force must be carefully judged. Usually the time for force is when a horse is “testing the boundaries.” There are types of force, like tying, and some kinds of bitting up, where the horse is essentially struggling against himself, and these can be very effective in teaching a horse patience, calm and acceptance, without the human having to conflict with the horse. But the horse is still being forced to do something he doesn’t wish to do.

            Anyway, I’m interested to hear others’ ideas about the use of force in horse training.

            (It is also possible that we could redefine the concept of “force.”)

            

What is NH?

                                                 by Laura Crum

            Kerrin made some interesting comments on my last post (How to “Train” a Solid Trail Horse) on the subject of NH or “natural horsemanship.” Like many traditional horseman, I have never had much use for this form of training, pioneered by Pat Parelli. I watched Pat Parelli show a bridleless mule at the Snaffle Bit Futurity maybe thirty years ago, and I thought he looked like a real hand. But I have not been impressed with the money making machine he created in NH and its games and tools and clinics, nor by what I have seen of NH horses and NH practices in general.

            But…the truth is I really know very little about NH. By the time it was fashionable, I had already paid my dues in the traditional horse training world, and the only horse training I did any more was for myself and friends. I wasn’t interested in interacting with trainers of any sort—I’d just had enough of that world. I knew enough to train and get along with my own horses successfully, and that worked for me. So my actual experience with NH was/is limited to the times I’ve run into practitioners (in real life and on the internet) and what my friends (almost all traditional horsemen) have told me.

            The consensus has always been that NH horses are pushy and not respectful, that the NH people get to call themselves trainers without ever learning to ride, that the answer for every problem is working the horse from the ground, and that no NH horse was ever effectively trained such that it could compete at a high level at anything. I’ve seen a little to support this view, but I honestly just haven’t seen enough to know. And my most recent interaction with a NH practitioner has been entirely positive.

            Several years ago my friend Wally and I were looking for a home for a flunked out rope horse that we had trained. Wally and I bought Lester as a two-year-old because he was by a three quarter brother to my horse, Gunner, and we both thought Gunner was a great horse. The breeder gave us a really good price on the colt and seemed quite anxious to be rid of him, despite the fact that he was obviously the most athletic horse in the group and appeared kind and cooperative. I asked where his mother was, so I could see her, and was told, “We got rid of that crazy bitch last year.” I ignored this. And that was our first mistake.

            Lester turned out to be kind, smart and easy to train as a riding horse. He was very athletic and could really run. Wally and I trained him together and we thought he would make a great rope horse. We were wrong.

            Lester had a crazy streak. I now think it was inherited. He simply could not take any sort of intensity or pressure or stress. Over and over again he would show his ability to execute and then blow up. He would make five great roping runs and then rear straight up in the box. He would travel down the trail nicely behind another horse and then be a basket case if asked to go out by himself or put in the lead in a “scary” place. Lester was willing to get truly violent when his buttons got “pushed,” though he never meant to hurt anyone. I always felt that he was just as likely to hurt himself as his rider. He wasn’t defiant; his circuits just plain shorted out under stress.

            Of course, we tried to work with him. But nothing we knew how to do really improved him. He’d go well for awhile and then blow up again. We had several other people who were competent riders/ropers work with him, but they all got the same result. I tried all the training tricks I knew, but nothing helped. In reference to my previous post about tying, I tried this technique with Lester fairly early in the piece. But Lester did not respond the way the other colts I’d worked with responded. If tied by himself Lester just got worse and worse; his violent behavior continued to escalate. I feared he would hurt or kill himself and gave up the tying. And yet Lester remained a kind, cooperative horse most of the time. If not stressed, he was great. Anyone could ride him at a walk, trot, lope around the arena, or follow another horse on a trail ride. He would take either lead, spin a little, stop and back readily…for anyone, including a beginner. He was reliably pleasant and calm for this sort of work. We certainly succeeded in his training to this degree, anyway.

            After several years of persisting, we gave up the idea that Lester could be a rope horse. He was immensely talented—we’d been offered ten thousand dollars by someone who saw him make three great runs one day. We turned it down—we knew well enough how that would end up. An unhappy roper and a horse that was sent down the road. Lester might not be rope horse material, but we were fond of him. We didn’t want him to come to a bad end.

 My friend wanted a riding horse for her teenage daughter and Lester had proven that he would pack beginners reliably in an arena and on a trail ride in a group. So we loaned Lester to Sue to be a kid’s horse.

            This worked surprisingly well (except when Sue’s daughter wanted to try barrel racing, which Lester—predictably--showed a lot of talent at, but—equally predictably-- he always blew up when under pressure) and Lester stayed there until Sue’s daughter outgrew her horse phase. He then went to Sue’s niece. But eventually she lost interest, too. And Lester needed a home. Lester was a teenage horse by now and I really wanted to find him a forever home, as I just had too many horses.

            Wally and I resolved to find him a place where he could babysit beginners—which is what he was good at. And my friend Kerrin decided to give him a try. She and her partner have a ranch where they teach kids to ride and educate people on horsemanship. Kerrin is a NH practitioner, and I also knew her to be a kind, competent horseman who took great care of her animals. Whatever prejudices I had and have about NH, I didn’t let them get in my way. It’s my belief that there are good horsemen and poor horsemen in every discipline and method.

            Lester has thrived with Kerrin and her crew. He fits their uses and they love him. I’m not sure if NH practices improved Lester’s quirks or not—perhaps Kerrin could tell us. Its possible, too, that age has mellowed him—he’s in his 20’s now. But I do know that Lester has had a good life at Kerrin’s ranch, as do all the horses that live there. So I have to say that I am really grateful to this particular NH practitioner.

            In the comments on my last post Kerrin asked why all the bashing of NH, and it got me thinking. I don’t really know why non-NH folks have such a low opinion of this training method. I stated earlier in the post what my perceptions have been, and the perceptions of others that I know. But are these perceptions correct? I thought I’d open the door to letting people tell me what NH is and whether or not it is a training method that can make a good horse. Maybe I just need a little education on the subject?

            I would particularly like to raise the point Kate made at the very end of the comments on my last post. It seems that most of the poor horse behavior attributed to NH could just as easily be attributed to middle-aged women who have never owned/trained/ridden horses before and acquire a horse thinking the main goal is to be “nice” to the horse and that being nice will result in the horse loving them and behaving well. This is just not true, as any experienced horseman can tell you. The goal is to have a good partnership with a horse and this can only come about if you are willing to be firm/a leader/set boundaries/reprimand appropriately….or however you would like to phrase this key aspect of horsemanship which involves teaching the horse to respect you. Kerrin also referenced this aspect of the situation in one of her comments. For whatever reason, this sort of novice horse owner really seems to gravitate to NH.

            I would also add that a person new to horses who wants to ride must spend a lot of hours riding a steady eddie horse in order to learn to ride effectively. It is not possible to work with a horse other than a steady eddie if you can’t ride competently, or rather, its possible, but nothing good will come of it. It’s my perception that many NH people have not learned to ride well enough to deal with a horse who is anything other than a schoolmaster. But they buy an unsuitable mount…and then can’t deal with it. It appears to me that the NH program encourages them to work with this horse, using games from the ground, and believe they are training it to be a riding horse. I do not think this is a workable concept, and would venture that this sort of pattern is one reason the NH horses have a poor reputation in the world outside NH. But maybe I am wrong in my perception?

            So, please, chime in and give me your explanations. It is quite true that I don’t really know much about this subject.

From Racehorse to Ranch Horse

by Natalie Keller Reinert

There are very nice people in the world who refer to me as a "horse expert." Of course, I'm not a horse expert in my eyes, I'm a person who has spent most of my life learning as much as I possibly can about horses, and that makes me an active enthusiast at best. Yes I can saddle-break a baby and inseminate a mare and remove eyelid stitches and jump a preliminary cross-country course and perform reasonable tempi changes on a well-trained horse and yes, teach a young racehorse to break from the gate.

An expert to most folks, maybe. But to the most of the readers of this blog I'm probably just... maybe a slightly above-average horsewoman? (You can tell me in the comments, if you promise to be nice.)

I got an email a few weeks ago from a reader at my site, Retired Racehorse, asking me to write about Gate to Great and Off-Track Thoroughbreds (OTTBs) who are being retrained as Western horses.

It went something to the effect of: You write a lot about OTTBs competing in English disciplines, what about Western ones? They excel at everything.

At Gate to Great, they know Western OTTBs are totally a thing. Photo: Gate to Great/gatetogreat.com

And while Thoroughbreds do, obviously, excel at everything, because sheer athleticism, curiosity, drive, and intelligence are traits wanted in every discipline, I really had nothing to write about. Because I just don't know much about Western riding.

I've been in a Western saddle maybe four or five times in my life, and that probably includes pony rides as a small child. The last time I was in a Western saddle, on an Appaloosa mare, she reared up and flipped over on me. Accustomed to the relative ease of dismounting from a flat saddle (I was an exercise rider at the time, riding about ten two-year-old Thoroughbreds every morning on the racetrack) I floundered in the Western saddle's high horn and cantle, got whacked in the forehead with her solid-rock poll, and eventually found myself on the ground, out cold.

A good craftsman never blames her tools, to be sure, but in this case this wasn't my tool, it was the owner's tool, and I owed her money, so I got on her damn horse and... I guess I am a little angsty about that saddle.

I also knew a Thoroughbred who was a very successful barrel racer. His name was, fittingly, Rocket. And my first OTTB, Amarillo, learned about the Real World outside the racetrack by moving cattle from pasture to pasture in rural Florida. (One of my very few Western rides was my test ride on Amarillo. He was so awesome, despite my complete discomfort in the saddle, that I just galloped him around the arena and then told my mom he was the one. He was.)

So I looked up Gate to Great finally, because their name is starting to crop up everywhere, and I was starting to feel distinctly inexpert about the whole situation, which isn't great for a person who runs a blog called Retired Racehorse and ostensibly knows a whole lot about retired racehorses.

And you know what? It's kind of amazing. I'm starting to feel very left out of the whole Western Thoroughbred Revolution.



In this fantastic video, you get an introduction to Thoroughbreds working with cattle, and the one word that springs to my mind is fun. These horses are having so much fun. I want to be one of these horses and have as much fun as they're having. It's ridiculous.

The Gate to Great folks are even sending horses to the Retired Racehorse Training Project's Thoroughbred Makeover in October, and you won't believe what they have planned:

The event, named “Who Let the Cows Out?”, will pair celebrity jockeys with retired Thoroughbred racehorses from the Gate to Great training program of Newell, South Dakota to compete on the Pimlico track in a “team sorting” event.  Each team of two horses and riders will have a maximum of two minutes to sort a small herd of numbered cattle into a corral in numeric order.  The team with the fastest time and correct sorting order wins the competition. The event requires cow sense, teamwork and fast thinking on the part of both the horses and riders.    - Press Release from Retired Racehorse Training Project

I can't even believe that this is an actual thing. I also can't believe I'm not going to be there. The event, held on October 5-6 at Pimlico Racecourse in Maryland, is going to be amazing. I just have other plans I can't change! Oh the humanity!

So there you have it. From racehorse to ranch horse, and apparently having a blast doing it. I apologize to my original reader for having to send that letter and get my attention out of the English world and into the Western one. What can I say? For a "horse expert," I reckon I have a lot to learn.

What about you? Do you consider yourself a well-rounded equestrian, or are there elements of riding and training out there that have simply escaped you over the years? I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of  -- we all know the saying "Jack of all trades, master of none," right? But then again, I'm starting to think there are some horses out there who might laugh at that phrase. It's looking like some horses can literally do everything, and do it well!

Visit Gate to Great and see their wonderful videos and training stories at GatetoGreat.com

How to "Train" a Solid Trail Horse

                                    by Laura Crum

            In the comments on my last post, Val mentioned that a friend had tried to “desensitize” a horse that was frightened of the farrier. And I replied that the word “desensitize” just made my hackles rise. I’ve never seen it used by anyone who was a competent horseman.

            So I got to thinking about this and realized that it may, of course, be a completely unreasonable prejudice on my part. I don’t like the word, or what I’ve seen done in its name, but then again, I don’t really understand the concept. I only know what I’ve seen.

            Today I am going to describe what I’ve actually seen done under the heading of desensitizing, which was mostly aimed at creating a horse that wasn’t so spooky out on the trail. In my view, it was a dismal failure. And then I am going to talk about something that will actually help a horse to be a solid horse outside (and in the ring, for that matter). After you read this, you can all tell me where I’m wrong about this desensitizing issue, if you want.

            Maybe twenty years ago my friend and I had permission to access some trails behind a local training barn. We parked our rig in the barnyard and rode our young horses (three and four year old QH rope horses in training) out the back gate and through the hills. Our goal was to teach our young horses to be calm and reliable on the trail and to this end, well, we rode them on the trail…a lot.

            On our way to the trails we passed the various rings and arenas where the trainer and her assistant worked with the horses they had in training. These people were, as it happens, NH type trainers. I always looked curiously at what they were doing, because it never looked anything like what I did when training a horse…or for that matter what any horseman/trainer that I knew did. One young woman was schooling a rather flighty looking bay mare with a big blue tarp one day. The mare was walked over the tarp and then she walked under it (they had one part of it draped over a pole to make a tunnel). The mare seemed fine with this.

            I smiled at the young woman assistant trainer as we went by, and asked idly what she was doing. “Desensitizing,” she said rather brusquely, as if I should have known.

            I shrugged, and we went off to ride several miles through the hills. Here we climbed and descended steep trail and met various obstacles. We were patient with our young horses, but persistent, as they learned to cope with what the wild woods had to show us.

            One day, on the way home, we met the young woman assistant trainer on the same bay mare. She was less than a mile from the barn and her mare was pitching a fit over passing a small tarped stack of hay. The tarp was brown rather than blue, a cube shape, and flapped briskly in the breeze. The mare quite clearly was having no part of going by this odd obstacle, despite all the “desensitizing” with the big blue tarp in the ring.

            Our two young horses cocked their ears at the tarped hay, but went on by, ignoring the nervous mare. They had, of course, been by this obstacle before, they were tired, and they knew we were on the way home. We stopped and offered to give the mare a lead past the tarp monster, if the gal wanted.

            We got what I can only call a venomous look in reply and a curt “No need.”

            Well. (In my view, she would have been wise to take the offered lead. Would have built her mare’s confidence with no conflict needed. But instead, she dismounted and began some sort of training from the ground…and quite truthfully I felt that dismounting was exactly the wrong thing to do. Merely reinforced the idea the haystack was a problem and taught the mare that pitching a fit causes rider to dismount.)

            Since then I have seen (and heard) of many things like this. Rub the plastic bag all over the horse at home and its all good. Meet a different plastic bag blowing along the trail and the horse goes bat shit crazy.

            My answer to this is simple. You don’t desensitize a horse to specific stuff (I don’t believe this works). You teach a horse to be confident out on the trail and able to handle the various unpredictable stuff that comes along without losing his mind. It’s two completely different approaches to the same problem.

            Training a horse to be a calm, confident trail horse is in some ways simple. Uhmm, you put a lot of miles on the horse on the trail—preferably when he is a green horse in training. I realize this is oversimplified, but it is the root of the answer. The best way to do this is, at least initially, is following an older steady horse down the trail. If no such horse exists to help you, then a companion of any sort, including a calm confident human on foot (a husband who hikes, for instance) will work.

            Second point, again obvious. If you want a calm, confident trail horse, choose a horse with a calm personality. A sensitive reactive spooky horse can be a good trail horse within his limits, but he’ll always spook. This can be OK, if you don’t mind the spook.

            My horse Gunner was and is a hugely spooky, very sensitive, reactive horse. I got him broke to death—I rode him on hundreds of trail rides and gathers. He spooked on every single outing, at least once or twice, if not twenty or thirty times. And I mean really spooked—instant relocation twenty feet to the left. I was used to it; I rode with one hand on the horn; Gunner never dumped me. He also never bolted or became in any way out of control. He spooked, he jigged when scared, but he stayed in my hand and went where I told him. In my youth I found this to be fine. And this is the best you will get out of the truly sensitive, reactive horse. Trust me on this one.

            As for horses like my Sunny and my son’s Henry, who march intrepidly past just about everything, they first of all are very calm sensible horses by nature. Secondly they have been exposed to a lot—many miles outside, hauled everywhere…etc. And there is a third thing. The big secret—worth far more in my book than any amount of desensitizing. And it is this. These horses have been tied up for long periods. They’ve learned how to be calm and patient.

            Tying does a lot of things for a horse. It is the single most under-rated training tool there is. Ranch horses are caught and saddled and tied—every working day. If they are young horses they may only be ridden for a short ride in the company of an older horse than can give them a lead, or not ridden at all, if the work of the day is too tough for their skills. They are watered at lunch time. They learn to be patient and calm through this tying—without any other “training.”

            And now I am going to tell you something I just learned last week about tying. It really opened my eyes. I’m still sort of pondering it.

            My Sunny horse came from Mexico. He is the single most calm, confident trail horse I’ve ever ridden. He goes just as well alone as he does in a group. He can be first or last or in the middle. He has no problem leaving the others. He is a calm, intelligent horse by nature, but even so, his complete lack of herdbound behavior and his self-confidence continue to amaze me. I’ve often wondered how he got this way. Well, now I think I know.

            I’ve known maybe half a dozen of these horses that came from Mexico in my life—and they were all like this. Nothing bothered them. They all tie perfectly. My friend Mark has a little gray horse from this same place right now, and he is just as bombproof as Sunny. I asked Mark, “How do they get this way?”

            He laughed. “They tie them up every night to trees—each horse where he can’t see another horse. That’s what I was told.”

            I thought about this. My first impulse was to think—wow, that’s rough. I could never do that to a horse. But then I thought a little deeper.

            I believe in the tying method as we used it on the ranches. But here was something more intense. The horse must cope with a lot of fear to begin with, certainly. I imagine the first few weeks are pretty rough. But then the horse learns that nothing bad happens. The humans come in the morning and bring him hay and take him to get a drink, so he is happy to see the humans. They saddle him and ride him and he gets plenty of exercise doing ranch work. In the end he accepts that there is nothing to do but wait patiently by his tree alone all night. Being alone will not hurt him, fretting will not help him. And thus is a horse like Sunny trained to be such a calm confident trail horse, with zero herdbound traits.

            Those who will cry “How cruel!” need to take a moment and think. Yes, I think this training method would be hard for a horse, especially to begin with. I’m sure some horses are injured or colic due to stress. I’m not sure I could ever bring myself to do it, to be frank. But…

            Half of the folks I know (both on the internet and in real life) who would protest such “cruelty” to a horse cannot climb on their horses and go for a trail ride. They are literally scared to do this with their horse. Their horse is too spooky and nervous, too herdbound to ride alone outside an arena. This is not a problem if it’s not a problem for the owner, of course.

            But in many cases it IS a problem for the owner. The owner finds the horse frustrating, or the owner gets hurt on the horse and realizes the horse is truly dangerous. The owner WANTS to love the horse, but the owner also wants (very much) to enjoy riding in a relaxed way down the trail. And eventually the frustration and anxiety and sometimes true (and realistic) fear is just too much for the well-intentioned owner and the horse is sold. Very frequently such horses do not come to a good end—we all know this.

            Contrast this to a horse such as Sunny, who is a real pleasure to ride down the trail. Anybody who can ride can ride a horse like Sunny on trail rides and enjoy him. I enjoy Sunny’s ability to go solo or in a group and his complete lack of herdbound behavior makes him a joy in so many ways. If Sunny did not have these traits I would not have bought him (I was looking for a solid trail horse) and/or not have kept him. These traits (acquired through the “cruel” method of tying) have earned Sunny a forever home. And to top it off, they have given him a calm, relaxed, non-fearful attitude towards anything life sends him. If Sunny (or any horse) had the sort of brain that allowed him to ponder and choose, don’t you think he would have chosen the stress of his initial “tying” in order to get the happy life that has resulted?

            Contrast this to the nervous, unhappy horse whose owner dares not ride him down the trail. Consider the potential conflicts, the frustration on the part of both owner and horse, the likelihood of the horse being sold and ending up at the killers. Which life would you rather have if you were a horse?

            Something to think about, for sure.