Horse Behavior Specialist
Licensed 2 Star Parelli Professional
www.nancyslater.com
22 / Sport and Trail Magazine
The Story of Two Reds
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M
y friend Becky and I rode our old horses bareback through the woods, laughing and chatting about our lives with our horses. We were so in love with these two old souls, and trusted them both deeply with our lives. They were the been- there- did- that kind of horses that anyone could ride. Those types being far and few between these days, I'd say.
We had fun challenging each other with sliding down canal banks, encountering emus, blazing new trails, and racing like the wind. I remember one time taking a little giddy up down a long dirt road, and my old mare was loving that run. Pushing forward to get ahead of my friend's horse. They were neck and neck, like two race horses, straining for the win. It was exhilarating, butterflies coming up in my stomach. "Becky", I shouted above the roaring hooves," Can you stop?", my words swept away in the wind. "What?", she shouted back. I repeated, "Can you stop??". She replied, "I don't know!" And we looked at each other and laughed heartily!
Our horses would stop if we asked. It was great fun having all the confidence in the world with those horses. We felt like their feet were our feet, their hearts were ours. Those were the days of all day trail rides when at days end we reluctantly turned towards home. Our horses heads hanging low and outstretched. Nostrils blowing lungs full of air out through them.
Years passed and eventually so did our two wonderful old grade horses. Becky mourned the loss of her beloved gelding, but soon another horse came along. He was a middle aged roping horse, solid red in color, and free. He had always been ridden in a saddle, bridle, and tie down. He was a little pushy on the ground, but sweet. Becky was excited the day he was dropped off, quickly grabbing her bridle from the shed.
He stood still long enough for her to get him up to a stump to get on. She swung a leg over and he moved off quickly; his head shot up into the air as he pushed into the bit. Becky pulled on the reins in vain to get him to stop, but he wouldn't even slow down. His eyes were saucers, back muscles tight. Becky felt the power of a freight train ready to derail!
Becky decided the best thing to do was bail out.
She hit the ground, almost landing on her feet, but the force tumbled her forward. She slowly got up, checking herself over. Except for some bumps and bruises, the worst part was just sinking in. As she limped over to get the horse, she felt a tingling down deep inside: Fear.
Becky never rode again. The dream had died.
Miss Jewels is my red mare that I rescued from being put down because of her runaway behavior. Her nose has a thin dent across it from a wire tie down, designed to keep her head down when the rider pulled on the reins. Jewels was a roping horse, she never learned how to respond to the bit, let alone the rider’s needs, and all she knew was to fight against pressure. She is one of the most disturbed and determined horses I have ever ridden. Teaching her to understand the appropriate response to pressure, to yield with trust and respect, has been the greatest challenge! My hands must not pull and trap, yet hold firm when she tries to lean on me, and soften, when she gives to me. Each day is better than the last, she is relaxing and giving to me without the need for any additional restraining equipment.
It's too easy to teach a horse to push against pressure. All you have to do is give them something to lean on! If we give them a soft feel in our hands from the very start, give when they give, things can be different.
And our dream stays alive.
and few between these days, I'd say.
We had fun challenging each other with sliding down canal banks, encountering emus, blazing new trails, and racing like the wind. I remember one time taking a little giddy up down a long dirt road, and my old mare was loving that run. Pushing forward to get ahead of my friend's horse. They were neck and neck, like two race horses, straining for the win. It was exhilarating, butterflies coming up in my stomach. "Becky", I shouted above the roaring hooves," Can you stop?", my words swept away in the wind. "What?", she shouted back. I repeated, "Can you stop??". She replied, "I don't know!" And we looked at each other and laughed heartily!
Our horses would stop if we asked. It was great fun having all the confidence in the world with those horses. We felt like their feet were our feet, their hearts were ours. Those were the days of all day trail rides when at days end we reluctantly turned towards home. Our horses heads hanging low and outstretched. Nostrils blowing lungs full of air out through them.
Years passed and eventually so did our two wonderful old grade horses. Becky mourned the loss of her beloved gelding, but soon another horse came along. He was a middle aged roping horse, solid red in color, and free.
He had always been ridden in a saddle, bridle, and tie down.
He was a little pushy on the ground, but sweet. Becky was excited the day he was dropped off, quickly grabbing her bridle from the shed.
He stood still long enough for her to get him up to a stump to get on. She swung a leg over and he moved off quickly; his head shot up into the air as he pushed into the bit. Becky pulled on the reins in vain to get him to stop, but he wouldn't even slow down. His eyes were saucers, back muscles tight. Becky felt the power of a freight train ready to derail!
Becky decided the best thing to do was bail out.
She hit the ground, almost landing on her feet, but the force tumbled her forward. She slowly got up, checking herself over. Except for some bumps and bruises, the worst part was just sinking in. As she limped over to get the horse, she felt a tingling down deep inside: Fear.
Becky never rode again. The dream had died.
Miss Jewels is my red mare that I rescued from being put down because of her runaway behavior. Her nose has a thin dent across it from a wire tie down, designed to keep her head down when the rider pulled on the reins. Jewels was a roping horse, she never learned how to respond to the bit, let alone the rider’s needs, and all she knew was to fight against pressure. She is one of the most disturbed and determined horses I have ever ridden. Teaching her to understand the appropriate response to pressure, to yield with trust and respect, has been the greatest challenge! My hands must not pull and trap, yet hold firm when she tries to lean on me, and soften, when she gives to me. Each day is better than the last, she is relaxing and giving to me without the need for any additional restraining equipment.
It's too easy to teach a horse to push against pressure. All you have to do is give them something to lean on! If we give them a soft feel in our hands from the very start, give when they give, things can be different.
And our dream stays alive.
He was a little pushy on the ground, but sweet. Becky was excited the day he was dropped off, quickly grabbing her bridle from the shed.
He stood still long enough for her to get him up to a stump to get on. She swung a leg over and he moved off quickly; his head shot up into the air as he pushed into the bit. Becky pulled on the reins in vain to get him to stop, but he wouldn't even slow down. His eyes were saucers, back muscles tight. Becky felt the power of a freight train ready to derail!
Becky decided the best thing to do was bail out.
She hit the ground, almost landing on her feet, but the force tumbled her forward. She slowly got up, checking herself over. Except for some bumps and bruises, the worst part was just sinking in. As she limped over to get the horse, she felt a tingling down deep inside: Fear.
Becky never rode again. The dream had died.
Miss Jewels is my red mare that I rescued from being put down because of her runaway behavior. Her nose has a thin dent across it from a wire tie down, designed to keep her head down when the rider pulled on the reins. Jewels was a roping horse, she never learned how to respond to the bit, let alone the rider’s needs, and all she knew was to fight against pressure. She is one of the most disturbed and determined horses I have ever ridden. Teaching her to understand the appropriate response to pressure, to yield with trust and respect, has been the greatest challenge! My hands must not pull and trap, yet hold firm when she tries to lean on me, and soften, when she gives to me. Each day is better than the last, she is relaxing and giving to me without the need for any additional restraining equipment.
It's too easy to teach a horse to push against pressure. All you have to do is give them something to lean on! If we give them a soft feel in our hands from the very start, give when they give, things can be different.
And our dream stays alive.
bridle from the shed.
He stood still long enough for her to get him up to a stump to get on. She swung a leg over and he moved off quickly; his head shot up into the air as he pushed into the bit. Becky pulled on the reins in vain to get him to stop, but he wouldn't even slow down. His eyes were saucers, back muscles tight. Becky felt the power of a freight train ready to derail!
Becky decided the best thing to do was bail out.
She hit the ground, almost landing on her feet, but the force tumbled her forward. She slowly got up, checking herself over. Except for some bumps and bruises, the worst part was just sinking in. As she limped over to get the horse, she felt a tingling down deep inside: Fear.
Becky never rode again. The dream had died.
Miss Jewels is my red mare that I rescued from being put down because of her runaway behavior. Her nose has a thin dent across it from a wire tie down, designed to keep her head down when the rider pulled on the reins. Jewels was a roping horse, she never learned how to respond to the bit, let alone the rider’s needs, and all she knew was to fight against pressure. She is one of the most disturbed and determined horses I have ever ridden. Teaching her to understand the appropriate response to pressure, to yield with trust and respect, has been the greatest challenge! My hands must not pull and trap, yet hold firm when she tries to lean on me, and soften, when she gives to me. Each day is better than the last, she is relaxing and giving to me without the need for any additional restraining equipment.
It's too easy to teach a horse to push against pressure. All you have to do is give them something to lean on! If we give them a soft feel in our hands from the very start, give when they give, things can be different.
And our dream stays alive.