Teaching Tori To Load --- Backwards
Posted by vwkoch, Nov 16 2009, 02:52 PM in Horse Stories
My horse spent her first three years in a 12x12 pen, and she’s very clumsy. When I got her, she didn’t really know where her hind end was, and we went through a period where I had her do a lot of things backwards, to try to help with this problem. For example, she learned to back over a wooden “bridge” (trail horse obstacle), to back into her stall, and to back into her trailer (two-horse step-up). Backing into the trailer was by far the most difficult task, because of the step up, but it was actually her FRONT end that caused the biggest problem. So, here’s the story of teaching Tori to load --- backwards.
Since the step up into the trailer is pretty big (about a foot), I first found a way to introduce her to the idea of stepping up and back more gradually. At our stable, there’s an area that was apparently once used as a wash rack. The land around the stable is hilly, and this particular area is on a slope, but it was leveled off by building a retaining wall of wood on two sides and then filling the enclosed area with sand or dirt, which is now grown over with grass. At its highest point, the step up is about the same as for the trailer, but there are other areas where it is lower, so I could get Tori GRADUALLY accustomed to stepping up and back. Once she could complete this task even at the highest part of the “platform”, I brought out the trailer, thinking things would be pretty easy at this point. Boy, was I wrong!
The first problem to rear its ugly head was that Tori’s back foot would get stuck when she tried to put it in the trailer. How did it get stuck? Well, it turned out that, when she was backing onto the wash platform, she had been determining the height she needed to raise her leg by dragging her foot up the wooden retaining wall till she ran out of wall. That technique worked well for her because the wall was solid. However, when she tried to drag her leg and foot up the back of the trailer, the dip in her leg at the back of the pastern caused her foot to go UNDER the floor just enough that she couldn’t drag it up any more, and she’d stand there and look helplessly at me because, in her mind, she was hopelessly stuck. (She hadn’t yet learned to learn at this point, so she gave up very easily if she couldn’t do something on the first try.)
I ended up having to find hills to park the trailer on to make the step up smaller, so she could gradually RE-learn how to step up and back under these new circumstances. She eventually learned the task, but it sure took longer than I’d expected. However, when she finally could get her back feet into the trailer, even on level ground, I thought that, at last, we really did have it made. NOW, the rest would be easy, right?! WRONG!!!!!
It turned out that, when the trailer was parked on level ground, the height of the floor was just below Tori’s knees, so when she picked up a front foot and put it in the trailer, she ended up with her entire lower leg, from the knee down, just resting on the trailer floor, as if she were waiting to have her hoof cleaned. She knew she was supposed to be getting into the trailer, but as before, she’d simply stand there and look helplessly at me, because I couldn’t possibly expect her to stand on her knee. Parking on hills didn’t work to solve that problem, because once the floor reached a certain height, no matter how gradually I worked up to it, her whole lower leg would slide in and she’d get that helpless look.
I tried many different approaches to the problem, but I couldn’t get anything to work. At one point, I actually got her to hop up and down with her front end (while her back end was in the trailer), mimicking me as I also hopped. I was thinking I might be able to push her backwards while she was in the up part of the hop, and then, she might learn to hop backwards into the trailer, but that idea didn’t work, either. We probably looked pretty funny hopping up and down in unison, though. I had to reward her for trying to please me, even though she surely must have thought I was totally crazy.
On another day, she was standing there with her back end in the trailer, as we pondered the problem of her front end, when a fire engine drove up and stopped next to us, with the motor still running. Someone had gotten hurt out on the trails, and the driver was waiting for the person who was supposed to take him to the site of the accident. He was totally unaware of the fact that he was scaring my horse half to death.
With me standing there reassuring her, Tori elected to stay put, but she was convinced the rumbling red monster was going to attack her at any moment. I was amazed that she didn’t bolt, and even more amazed that, if she could have, she would have gotten her front end into the trailer post-haste. My chicken horse, who had been so afraid of trailers, now saw her trailer as a safe place to be to escape horse-eating fire engines. It made me so proud of her progress! However, even with that much motivation, she still couldn’t figure out how to back her front end into the trailer.
The problem, of course, was that she somehow had to learn to flip her fetlock once her leg was in the trailer, so the bottom of her foot would be on the floor instead of pointing upward. Eventually, I noticed that, sometimes, her foot would hang up on the edge of the rubber mat as she slid it into the trailer. I took advantage of such hang-ups by pushing her back hard whenever they happened, and finally, one day, her foot flipped as she pushed it back against the edge of the mat.
The first time it happened, she wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but since she now had a foot to stand on, she went ahead and backed into the trailer. After a couple such successes, she realized what the trick was, and she’d purposely brace her foot against the edge of the mat to help flip it over into the proper position. Having now found successful techniques for going up and back with both ends, she quickly became an expert at backing into the trailer.
So, my chicken little horse, who was once terrified of trailers, now feels quite at home with them. She is more than happy to load --- forwards OR backwards. I never thought I’d be proud to have a “backwards horse” --- but I am. Tori is surely the best backwards horse ever!
Dominance, Leadership, Respect --- And Leading
Posted by vwkoch, Nov 2 2009, 02:34 PM in Horse Handling Thoughts
One of the types of fads that circulate in populations is the use of word games that people play. Currently, for example, “leadership” is in, and “dominance” is out with most behavioral experts. However, their followers might or might not understand the difference between the two terms. Many horse trainers use the word “respect” instead of “dominance”, which is probably a better choice --- if you actually understand the difference.
People who insist that their horses must obey every rule in every circumstance may use any of these three terms to describe their methods, but if they do, they’re using them incorrectly. A person who insists that horses should never be allowed to break any rules is nothing but a control freak, who doesn’t really understand respect, leadership, OR dominance. When you look at respect and leadership (and dominance) among groups of animals themselves, what you see is best described by a quote from Dr. Karen Overall, a veterinary behaviorist: “The animal to which most others defer is the animal that behaves most appropriately- given the context, not the animal which must always be at the door first, or must eat first. A need to control regardless of context can be neither adaptive, nor normal.”
I was thinking about these things the other day while I was leading my horse, and I realized that the interaction I have with my horse when I’m leading her is a good example of what leadership (and respect) really is, so I thought a description of our interactions might help clarify how you can maintain control without being a control freak. I am not saying that my way is the only way, or the best way, or the way everybody else should use. However, I AM saying that it is a good example of how to be in control while still allowing the animal some leeway.
There are times when I want my horse to lead “normally.” If so, I hold the lead rope about a foot or so from her halter. In that situation, she leads the way a dog would “heel” --- staying close by my side and matching my pace without even considering doing anything else. I don’t need to pull on her --- the close hold is just her cue to lead “normally.”
Most of the time, though, I hold the end of the lead rope farthest from my horse, which is her cue that she has a lot more leeway. In essence, she can go in any direction to the full length of the lead rope as long as she doesn’t jerk on me. She can even pull on me, as long as she does so gently and briefly. I might slow down or speed up to accommodate her, but if I don’t, she has to quit pulling.
She can also give a gentle pull to indicate she wants to stop and grab a bite to eat, and I might or might not let her do so. If I don’t stop, she can’t, either, and if I do, she has to resume walking pretty much as soon as I do. (She can ask for more time by not coming immediately, and the strength with which we pull on each other allows us to gauge how much she wants to eat vs. how much I want to go. If she REALLY wants to keep eating, I might give her a little more time, but when I give her a “come NOW” signal, she has to stop eating then or lose her future eating privileges.)
Because she’s lazy, she’s usually the full length of the lead rope behind me when I’m leading her --- but she’s not pulling on the rope. She also usually asks to eat at every patch of grass we pass, but if I don’t want to be bothered, I can say no before she even asks, by giving the rope a tug as we approach the grass. That way, too, if I haven’t given her a tug, she pretty well knows I’m going to say yes if she asks to stop and eat.
When I lead her without a lead rope, the rules are essentially the same. If I want her to “lead normally”, I hold her halter (or her mane, if she’s not haltered) for the first few steps, and she knows she’s supposed to “heel” when I let go of her. Otherwise, I just say “come on”, and she follows when I walk off --- usually staying several feet behind me.
If I’m willing to let her stop and eat, I’ll stop at a grassy patch and wait for her, but when I say “come on” and resume walking, she has to come. If I don’t stop, but I walk slowly, she can grab grass as she follows along --- but just a few bites before she catches up to me. If I don’t want her to eat grass, I either walk quickly, or I keep the corner of my eye on her and say “no, come on” when she lowers her head to eat.
Most traditional horse trainers would point me out as a bad example if they saw me leading my horse, with her pulling backward or forward or sideways or stopping to eat along the way. They would say that I’m lacking in control because my horse doesn’t respect me --- and they would be wrong. If nothing else, my ability to lead my horse with no lead rope is proof of my control.
What the traditionalists don’t see is that my horse doesn’t “misbehave” unless she has my permission to do so. In reality, I don’t have any problems with disobedience when I am leading my horse --- she just has more options for acceptable behaviors than most horses. The traditionalists interpret her exercising of those options as disobedience without really seeing what they’re looking at --- which makes me wonder how much they really know.
If anything, it could be said that I have MORE control over my horse because of the additional options (and rules) that she has. Traditional leading is easy --- the only rule the horse has to learn is to stay at your side. For my horse, life is far more complicated because there are a lot more rules, but by learning all the rules, she also gains a lot more options. She can ask permission to do what she wants, and if she asks nicely, she might get to do it. In other words, she’s rewarded for obedience rather than punished for disobedience, so she is HAPPY to obey. She obeys because she TRULY respects me, not because she fears being punished. She willingly GIVES me control when I ask for it, without me having to demand it, which is what makes me a leader rather than a control freak.
When I lead my horse, I am truly LEADING her, not just forcing her to accompany me. She comes whether I have a lead rope or not, because she sees value in following where I lead. If you have this type of relationship with YOUR horse, then you may rest assured that you are “dominant”, you are the “leader”, you have your horse’s “respect” --- whatever the fad term of the day is. No matter what anybody else tells you, you DON’T have to be a control freak to have an obedient horse.
Teaching Tori To Load
Posted by vwkoch, Oct 19 2009, 01:20 PM in Horse Stories
It took me five months to teach my horse to “load.” Well, okay, I’m exaggerating a little. I was traveling a lot, so I didn’t spend every day of that time working on loading, and I’m also defining “loading” a little differently than most people do. My goal was for my horse to load calmly, ride calmly, and unload calmly --- and it was the “calmly” that took all the work.
My horse was just shy of three years old when I got her. It took her owner and the transporter five hours to load her in a stock trailer for the trip --- even after sedating her. This horse is orders of magnitude more fearful than any other horse I’ve ever known, and I’m sure the eight hours she spent in the trailer were eight hours of sheer terror (after five hours of terror during the loading process). I knew, after that experience, it would be difficult to teach her to load calmly (in my two-horse trailer), so it was one of the very first things I began to work on with her. Little did I know how very difficult it would turn out to be!
I found out just how frightened she was the first day we started working on loading. As I led her toward the trailer, she stopped in fear when we were still about 30 yards away. In essence, as soon as she realized where we were going, she all but panicked. If I’d tried to lead her any closer, she would have pulled loose and run off, and as it was, she seemed to be in permanent pooping mode (a definite sign of anxiety). That first day, I finally got her to within about five feet of the trailer without her getting too hysterical, and I considered that feat a great success.
Over time, it became clear that any little noise while we were around the trailer would send her into a panic. Horses are afraid of noise anyway, and she’d probably experienced a lot of noise on the trip that brought her to me, because stock trailers are very noisy things. She clearly associated metallic-sounding noises with that terrible experience, and she clearly recognized my trailer for what it was, even if it wasn’t a stock trailer. Eventually, though, it became possible to tie her to the back of the trailer while I groomed her each day (although she still stopped and pooped as soon as she realized where we were going). A very large part of the five months was spent simply grooming her behind the trailer, letting her learn that she was NOT risking imminent death by being there.
When we got to the point where she was unconcerned when I banged chains against the trailer, it was time to teach her the actual loading part. I asked her to get in, and she appeared willing, but she couldn’t figure out how. She had to step up about 12 inches or so, and she had no idea how to do so. She grew up in a stall-sized pen, and stepping up just wasn’t in her vocabulary. I tried putting hay in the trailer to increase her incentive, but incentive wasn’t the problem --- she still couldn’t figure out HOW to step into the trailer. I tried picking up a front foot and putting it in, and she was very accommodating, but when I’d try to pick up the other front foot, she’d put the first one back down before she picked up the second one. In order to get her to step up, I specifically had to teach her to pick up the second foot without taking the first one out of the trailer. Once her front feet were in, though, she loaded just fine --- the back feet followed where the front ones led. The PROBLEM occurred when I asked her to back OUT of the trailer.
She backed up quite willingly for the few steps to the edge of the trailer, but the first time a back foot stepped on nothing, she let me know that it was utterly impossible for her to go any further, because there wasn’t anything to stand on if she tried. Eventually, I convinced her that the ground hadn’t disappeared --- she could find it if she just lowered her foot --- and I managed to get her out of the trailer. To this day, she unloads very carefully and slowly, just in case the ground might NOT be there to catch her foot when it goes over the edge.
We spent the next few weeks just getting in and out of the trailer, till she could step up and down without thinking about it so hard, then we began taking short trips --- like once around the outside of the round pen. When we could make a trip without her pooping in fear, the next trip got longer, till finally we could actually get on the road and go somewhere, with Tori remaining calm throughout the trip. The trailer was no longer an instrument of torture!
It took me five months to teach my horse to load --- and most of that time was devoted to getting her to be calm in the vicinity of the trailer. How much easier it would have been if she’d been taught to load BEFORE she had to make that first trip! It’s such a pity that it’s the horses which have to pay when people don’t care enough to do things right.
Some interesting footnotes to this story:
(1) The emphasis on making a trip without pooping, combined with Tori’s natural tendency toward cleanliness, had an unexpected but somewhat welcome result --- my horse will not poop in the trailer. When I go to load her now, she refuses to get in until she’s pooped (or until I get bored and tell her to get in anyway). If she HAS to poop while she’s in the trailer, she backs up and does it over the top of the door, so very little poop actually falls into the trailer --- which makes it really easy to clean up after a trip. The only reason this idiosyncrasy isn’t TOTALLY welcome is because pooping over the door tends to get poop on the door handle, so I have to clean up THAT mess before I open the door. People think I’m nuts when she refuses to load and I tell them she’s not getting in because she has to go to the bathroom first, but I always get the last word when she finally poops and then climbs on into the trailer without further prodding. Doesn’t EVERY well-trained child know you should use the restroom BEFORE you start a long trip?!
(2) Tori is now so comfortable with the trailer that she will even load backwards. It took her awhile to figure out how to accomplish THAT trick, since stepping up and back is not at all normal for a horse, but neither one of us has ever claimed to be normal. Teaching her to load backwards was another interesting experience --- but it’s a story for another time!
Breaking Horses
Posted by vwkoch, Oct 5 2009, 12:24 PM in Horse Handling Thoughts
When I was a kid, teaching a horse to be ridden was called “breaking”, no matter how it was done. Later on, it became more proper to use the term “starting”, because “breaking” was considered to be abusive. Even though I’d been “starting” horses before the idea became popularized, I myself continued to use the term “breaking”, both out of habit and because, I guess, I was in denial. The people I knew who “broke” horses simply got on them without preparing them for the experience, then rode out the resulting bucking until the horses learned not to buck --- not the best “starting” process, but not overly abusive, either. I’ve ridden horses that were “broken” that way, and they didn’t seem like the hopeless creatures I imagined would result from a spirit-breaking process. Now, however, after all these years, I’ve finally learned what “breaking” really means, and it broke my heart (no pun intended).
I didn’t think people “broke” horses any more, because everybody talks about “starting” nowadays, but I should have known better. People still talk about how you have to be dominant to your horse, and dominance is what “breaking” is all about --- teaching a horse that it can’t win a battle of wills, by fighting it until you win. There are other, better ways to establish your dominance, but I know now that “breaking” still exists --- and the people doing it may not even realize what they’re doing. Let me first tell the story of what I saw, then I’ll explain the alternative methods I think are so much better.
Someone at our stable brought in an outside trainer to work on her horse, and over the time that he was there, he used three techniques that I saw. (I mostly avoided watching unless the weather required me to share the indoor ring with them.) One was the plastic bag on the end of a stick that he waved around to frighten the horse until she quit reacting. That’s a fairly common technique, but most people avoid terrifying the horse in the process. He did not.
The second technique was essentially “sacking” the horse with a blue tarp. She learned to walk over it, allow it anywhere on her body, even stand there with it tied to her tail. At times, that process terrified her as well, but in the end, she learned the tarp wouldn’t hurt her.
The third technique was “laying her down.” This part was the “breaking” part. I have seen other trainers use this technique, but they prepared the horse for the experience; i.e., the horse trusted the trainer before the trainer “asked” it to lie down (more about this aspect later). For those who have never seen a horse “laid down”, a very brief (and purposely incomplete) description of one such procedure is that you tie up a front leg, then pull the horse’s head to the opposite side. The process slowly pulls the horse down, until it is lying on its side.
In this case, the horse clearly did not trust the trainer, and she fought being “laid down.” (Even MY horse, just from watching him work, didn’t trust him, and she kept a suspicious eye on him whenever he was present.) Although the mare exploded a few times, most of her fighting simply consisted of stretching out her untied leg and her head and neck to avoid being toppled onto her side. After a long period of such fighting, she finally became tired and allowed herself to be rolled into a lying position. At that point, she was panting, and her entire body was slick with sweat. This process was repeated many times over many days, and while the time it took to get her to give up lessened, I never saw her quit fighting.
The last day the trainer was there, he left the horse alone in the ring, ground-tied, for a period of time. She stood there with her nose a couple of feet from the ground, her ears about ¾ of the way back, her eyes dull, looking totally beaten, and I realized I was looking at a broken horse. She’d learned obedience, but at a price no horse should ever have to pay.
The mare will probably recover from this experience, and lose the dull hopelessness I saw in her, because now that she has “learned obedience”, her owner will be working with a different (dressage) trainer. The poor horse will never forget the experience, though, and it will color all of her future interactions with people. It will be very hard for her to trust human beings, and I find that thought very depressing.
I have several problems with the way she was handled, but let me start with the easy ones first. While it is true that people need to be dominant to horses, we don’t need to dominate them in the process. You are dominant to your horse if you control his life, and most of us do. We control when horses get fed, when they get ridden, what they do when they’re ridden --- pretty much everything that’s done when we’re around them. Because you’re in control, your horse recognizes you as dominant. You don’t need to “lay him down” to prove it to him.
While you do need to be dominant, it’s more important (in my opinion) that your horse recognizes you as his leader, and being dominant does NOT make you a leader. Being a leader means your horse has CHOSEN to follow you, not that he is being forced to do so. The trainer described above was absolutely dominant to the mare he trained, but she did NOT accept him as her leader. I think most people would rather have a horse that obeyed them HAPPILY because it chose to do so than one that obeyed only because it had been forcibly shown it had no other choice. I know I want MY horses to be happy.
Another problem I had with this trainer’s techniques is his use of what is called “flooding”, with the plastic bag and the tarp. Flooding is a method of desensitizing an animal to something scary, but it’s a very brutal method. True desensitization (as behaviorists use the term) is when an animal’s exposure to the scary stimulus is increased so slowly that it never becomes afraid. Flooding is when the stimulus is presented full force and continued until the animal quits reacting --- and the animal is often panicked during the process. Most horse people use a sort of intermediate method of desensitizing their horses, in which they allow the horses to become scared but not panicked. That method is not as good as true desensitization, but at least it is not inhumane. Flooding causes unnecessary distress, and horses can certainly be desensitized using better techniques, so I don’t think flooding should be used at all. I definitely don’t want MY horse to be panicked unnecessarily.
Finally, what I think “broke” this horse was the technique of “laying her down.” While the technique itself is not bad, I think the use of it to break a horse is abusive. If a horse is so lacking in trust as to fight the technique, then the only possible nonabusive use of the method that I could see would be if the horse needed to be laid down for veterinary care, and with all the good sedatives now available, I think that situation would be rare, if not nonexistent.
A person who wants a horse to lie down can either MAKE it lie down or ASK it to lie down. There are two problems with asking, though. One is that a horse which is lying on its side is in a very vulnerable position, and it won’t willingly assume that position unless it trusts the person who is asking it to lie down. The other is that, the first time you ask, you have to have some way to communicate to the horse what it is you want it to do --- and the “laying down” technique is a way for you to tell the horse what it is you want. (You can also TRAIN a horse to lie down on command by rewarding it whenever you catch it lying down --- e.g., when it rolls --- but for now, we’re talking about a technique that can be used without training).
The difference between “asking” and “making” when “laying down” a horse is in the trainer’s willingness to let the horse say “no.” The horse will understand that you’re pulling it over, and if it trusts you, it will (eventually, with coaxing and reassuring) relax and let you do so. If it doesn’t trust you, it will fight you. If it fights you, you can pull it over anyway, when it gets tired enough, but then, you have MADE it lie down.
In my opinion, if the horse won’t LET you pull it over, you shouldn’t “lay it down” at all. When a horse doesn’t trust you, you should let it say “no”, and then, you should begin working on establishing a trusting relationship. When you have the horse’s trust, it will lie down voluntarily when you “ask.” I have seen some trainers “lay horses down” to demonstrate they have that kind of trust, but there are other ways to show how much a horse trusts you. I really don’t see any compelling reason for “asking” a horse to lie down by pulling it over with ropes.
I see even less reason for MAKING a horse lie down. People who use the technique that way usually say they are doing one of two things. Some say they do it to establish dominance. The problem is that they are establishing dominance by “breaking” the horse. They are picking a fight they know they can win. They are, essentially, bullies.
Others say they do it to establish trust, by showing the horse that they won’t hurt it while it’s down. Unfortunately for that theory, a horse does not learn to trust a human by being placed in a position in which it is helpless and frightened. A horse can learn that a plastic bag or a blue tarp is harmless, but it will ALWAYS feel vulnerable when it is lying down. If it is FORCED to lie down, what it learns is giving up, not trust. The psychological state of “giving up” is called learned helplessness, and it is an analog of depression in humans. MAKING a horse lie down is a technique for breaking the horse, NOT for establishing trust.
Successfully ASKING a horse to lie down demonstrates a trust that is already established. The horse agrees to go into a vulnerable position because it trusts the human to protect it. A horse that is MADE to lie down is NOT going to trust the person who FORCED it into a vulnerable position, and it certainly won’t trust that person to protect it while it is down. It may lie there peacefully, but it does so because it has given up --- it has decided that it can’t prevent itself from being killed, so it will just accept whatever happens. Depressed people sometimes commit suicide (if they don’t get effective medical treatment). Depressed horses don’t have even that avenue of escape. “Breaking” horses has a deservedly bad reputation, and people need to recognize a “breaking” technique when they see it, even when it is incorrectly portrayed as a beneficial exercise.
The cause of this problem, I think, is that these trainers don’t even recognize that they are “breaking” horses --- they think they are just establishing their dominance or (even worse) establishing trust. They don’t mean to be cruel --- they just don’t recognize the effect of their techniques on the horses they train. They would probably abhor the methods of anyone they saw using physical abuse to train a horse, but all unknowingly, they are themselves using psychological abuse.
As a society, we are historically much better at recognizing physical abuse than we are at recognizing psychological abuse, but we are learning, and I hope this blog will cause more people to think about what they see. Is that apparently impressive trainer producing happy horses or just obedient ones? How do you tell the difference between a happy horse and a broken horse? Let me give you this example.
I’ve “ground tied” my horse in the arena, just as this trainer did, although I don’t actually drop the reins. I “ground tie” my horse just by telling her to “stay there”, usually while I’m dismantling a jump and putting the pieces back in the corner. When I’m done, I don’t go back to get her --- I just head for the gate and tell her “OK, let’s go.” She meets me at the gate.
While she’s standing in the arena, she’s got her head up, her ears pricked, one eye on me (waiting for the “let’s go” signal) and the other looking with interest at whatever else is happening around her. She’s bright, alert, and happy --- and the polar opposite of the dull-eyed mare I described above. Our relationship is also the polar opposite of the one between the trainer and the broken mare. When I call Tori to me (or to the gate), she is PLEASED to come, because she considers me to be her friend, her leader, and her protector --- not her slave master. She LIKES me; she’s HAPPY when she’s around me; and she wants to be with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I guess I’m pretty lucky not to have seen a broken horse until just recently, but what you see probably depends on what circles you move in, and I mostly move in circles where people try to work WITH their horses. At any rate, having seen one broken horse, I never want to see another. People need to learn to recognize psychological abuse as well as physical abuse, so we can prevent it from occurring. Isn’t it about time we finally quit breaking horses?
Horse Economics
Posted by vwkoch, Sep 21 2009, 12:37 PM
I’ve had three pet horses in my life, and each one has been very different from the others. My first mare had been mistreated at some time and did not like people (other than me) very much. Other people couldn’t catch her even in her stall, and she wouldn’t take food from them unless I was there to tell her it was okay (or they left it in her feeder). My stallion had obviously been well-treated, and he loved people. Getting a treat from someone was just icing on the cake, as far as he was concerned.
My current mare also loves people, but only as bottomless sources of treats. When I’m cooling her off at night, I usually let her carry me around the stable area at will, going wherever she decides to go. If there are no people around, she will check out the tractors, the trucks, the garbage cans, etc. --- anything that raises her curiosity. However, if there are people around, she makes a beeline to visit them to see if they’ll feed her. She makes her desires very obvious, gently checking their pockets and giving them her best “hungry horse” looks. If they feed her, she’ll keep begging for more --- successfully enough that many people will actually go get more treats to feed her. If, after a period of begging, she decides they aren’t going to feed her, then she will wander away again, looking for better entertainment.
When she is tied in the barn, anyone walking down the aisle with any kind of food is fair game. She has eaten everything from bananas and broccoli to raspberries and raisins, including peanuts (and peanut butter), popcorn, Fritos, cheetos, candy canes, cookies, doughnuts, and birthday cake. Unlike many horses, she is not at all suspicious of new foods. If somebody nearby puts something in his mouth, she wants some --- even if it’s coffee (although I can’t believe she’d like coffee). She gets the more normal treats, too, of course --- carrots, apples, peppermints, sugar (rarely), and commercial treats. From me, she gets only one carrot a day, cut up into 15 – 20 pieces (which she gets one at a time as she earns them), so I am not close to being in the same league with her favored treat-givers. My lack of clout in the economic game is most obvious when we’re playing “fetch.”
If no one else is around, the game actually looks like fetch --- I throw something, and Tori brings it back to me. If someone else is around, though, it becomes clear the game is actually “trade the object in for a treat” --- and my little piece of carrot is not in high demand relative to the generous offerings available from others. I could have my feelings hurt when I throw something and my horse takes it to someone else, but I’m a realist. It’s not that Tori doesn’t like me. It’s just a lesson in horse economics.
Solving Problems
Posted by vwkoch, Sep 8 2009, 03:16 PM in Horse Handling Thoughts
There are comments everywhere nowadays about how we have become an “instant gratification” society --- and they’re true. I don’t think this development is as new as people think it is, though. I think there are just more ways to get instant results now, so people complain more when they run into something with no instant fix.
One problem with instant fixes is that they are often not real fixes. Quick fixes often fix only the symptoms, not the real problems. Even worse, when people become accustomed to quick fixes, they begin to think of the SYMPTOMS as the problem, so they never even consider fixing the REAL problem. Unfortunately, you cannot fix a problem by fixing only the symptoms.
A quick fix only hides the results of a problem, without fixing the problem itself, so the “fix” continues to be necessary. A real fix eliminates the problem altogether. If your “fix” for a problem is something you have to keep using, then you haven’t really fixed the problem --- you’re just hiding the symptoms.
Using the quick fix instead of the real fix is definitely a problem in the horse community (as it is everywhere else). There are many examples of using quick fixes instead of real fixes, and I’ll discuss a few of them to clarify exactly what I mean. At the very least, I would like people to recognize when the fix they’re using is a quick fix, not a real one, because quick fixes often create welfare problems for the horse.
One category of quick fixes is using tack and equipment to “fix” riding and handling problems. For example, if your horse won’t stop, you use a more severe bit. If your horse tosses its head, you use a tie down. If the horse pulls on its lead, you put a chain over its nose (or use similar coercive measures). These approaches don’t fix the real problem --- they just prevent the results of the problem from being seen. As soon as you quit using the equipment necessary for the “fix”, the problem will be obvious again.
A real fix makes the problem go away permanently. In order to achieve a real fix, though, you first have to identify the CAUSE of the problem. For example, a properly trained horse doesn’t usually toss its head, so if a horse is tossing its head, it might have a training problem. If the horse is properly trained, maybe the problem is with the rider --- too rough a hand on too severe a bit. If the rider isn’t the problem, then maybe the horse has a medical problem. Once the problem is identified and resolved, the head tossing will stop for good. You won’t need a tie down to hide the symptom. More importantly, you will have improved the horse’s welfare by resolving the problem CAUSING the symptom.
Another category of quick fixes is the usual treatments for “stable vices.” If a horse is wind sucking or wood chewing or wall kicking, the owner will use a cribbing collar or nasty-tasting paint or kicking chains to try to stop the unwanted behavior. These “fixes” only attack the symptoms, though, rather than trying to eliminate the problem that’s actually causing the “vices.”
Stable vices usually develop out of boredom and/or isolation, and the best way to “treat” them is to prevent them, because once established, they are very hard to eliminate. Horses should never be isolated. If stalled, they should at least be able to interact with neighboring horses. If not, it might be helpful to provide them with a companion (like a pony or goat or chicken) to share the stall with them. People can also provide companionship, if they interact with the horse often enough to provide true support. If providing a companion is impossible, then a mirror (unbreakable) might be better than nothing. Housing a horse in complete isolation is nothing short of abuse.
Even with companionship, though, a horse kept in a stall for 24/7 with nothing to do is likely to get bored. To prevent welfare problems, stalled horses should be turned out or ridden at least once each day, and they should be given things to do while in their stalls. One possibility is simply to give your horse more hay (and spread it around the stall), so he can spend more time eating. (You may also need to use a poorer quality hay, so he doesn’t get too fat.) Another possibility is to provide him with toys. Most horses will play with toys that dispense food, and many horses will play with other toys, as well. If you prevent your horse from getting bored, you will also prevent stable vices.
If your horse already has vices, the suggestions above might at least lessen the frequency with which he demonstrates them. If you’re using equipment to “stop” the vices, though, you might want to reconsider it. “Vices” are coping mechanisms for dealing with stress, and removing a horse’s coping mechanism without eliminating his stress causes even poorer welfare conditions for him. If the vices themselves are having a negative effect on his health, then you must weigh the negative effect of the vices against the negative effect of stopping the vices, to decide what is best for the horse. If at all possible, however, you should try to eliminate the problem (boredom and/or isolation), rather than just treating the symptoms.
Because hiding the symptoms of a problem usually has a negative effect on the welfare of the horse, it is important that people recognize the difference between just treating the symptoms of a problem (the quick fix) and treating the actual problem itself (the real fix). Truly fixing a problem requires you to identify and eliminate the CAUSE of the problem. Simply taking steps to prevent the results of the problem from manifesting themselves does not fix the problem --- it just hides it until it finds some other way to reveal itself. More importantly, it increases the horse’s level of frustration and lessens its welfare even further. If you have a problem you’re trying to fix, make sure you delve deeply enough to be working on the actual problem, not just the symptoms --- for your horse’s sake!
A Very Bad Day
Posted by vwkoch, Aug 24 2009, 12:15 PM in Horse Stories
It started out as just a normal day. After work, I went out to ride, and my trail ride had been going pretty well, in spite of the fact that my horse is the world’s worst Nervous Nellie. I certainly didn’t expect any problems when I asked her to canter along a nice, flat, grassy section of the trail. However, about three strides or so into her canter, I suddenly realized I was looking at that grassy trail from just a couple of feet away.
My horse is a klutz (as well as a big chicken), and she specializes in out-of-the-blue, no-warning, spectacular, somersaulting falls that, most commonly, injure one or the other of my shoulders, while leaving her unscathed. This time, it was my left shoulder that was heading for the impact, and I had just enough time to think “not again” before I hit. There wasn’t enough time to “tuck and roll”, although I did manage a teeny tuck and enough of a roll to bring me up to my knees, in the end. I didn’t really think it was that bad a fall, and as I stood and turned around, I expected to see my horse standing there grazing as if nothing had happened. Unfortunately, reality didn’t conform to my expectations.
What I saw was a sight that sent every adrenaline molecule in my body surging in a flood into my bloodstream --- the headless carcass of my horse, with her back to me, lying unmoving and unbreathing about ten feet away from me. I ran to her, screaming her name, hoping against hope to see her get up, but there was no reaction. She just continued to lie there, not even breathing.
When I finally got to her, I could see that her carcass wasn’t really headless --- her head and neck were simply bent back under her body. (Yes, it’s pretty obvious horses’ heads don’t just disappear, but I wasn’t thinking very clearly in the first few seconds after I saw her.) She’d apparently died of a broken neck, but I nevertheless grabbed her right (upper) front leg and pulled her onto her back, so her head and neck would be free to move. At that point, she took a big breath, and for a moment, I felt a wave of relief. She was alive, after all!
My relief was short-lived, however. After the breath, she continued to lie there with her head and neck curled back against her body, making no effort to move. So, she had, in fact, broken her neck, and she was paralyzed, and she might as well be dead, because she’d have to be euthanatized. I grabbed her bridle with my left hand (my right one was holding onto her leg to keep her rolled up on her back) and tried to pull her head out straight, so I could let her down to lie on her side, but my arm hurt, and I couldn’t get her head to move.
Still holding her leg to keep her up on her back, I moved around next to her head, so I had a better angle for pulling on it, but it still wouldn’t move. For a moment, I was really puzzled. Even though my arm hurt, I ought to be able to drag a horse’s head over the ground. Then, another blaze of hope ran through me. She couldn’t move her head because the reins were caught under her body! She might yet be okay!
Full of excitement, I grabbed the bridle again, and this time, I tried to give it a really strong pull --- only to have the grating in my shoulder inform me that I had a broken collarbone and strong pulls were not going to be happening any time soon. By this time, Tori was looking at me, so I informed her that I could use a little help in trying to straighten out this mess. The next time I pulled, she did, too, and as I scrambled out of the way, she got her head loose, rolled over (English saddle be damned), stood up, and put her head down to graze, all in one motion. Oh, Tori!
Unfortunately for her, I was too full of adrenaline to stand there and watch her graze. I grabbed the reins and started leading her down the trail, with my heart still beating about 100 miles a minute. Unfortunately for me, I got about 20 feet down the road and realized I was going to have to sit down before I fell down. Now that I knew Tori was okay, the shock of the whole episode was catching up to me, and I was beginning to feel faint.
My totally unfazed horse thought stopping was a great idea, of course, since it meant she got to graze after all. After a few seconds, though, I was feeling well enough to start wondering how I was going to get back on this beast with one arm totally nonfunctional. (Once the crisis was over, my left elbow glued itself to my left hip in a way that indicated it wasn’t moving again any time soon.) As I looked at my horse, trying to figure out the logistics of one-armed mounting, I noticed that my girth was broken in two, right in the middle. With both halves hanging down next to Tori’s sides, you couldn’t tell it was broken unless you were looking from underneath, as I was.
OK, so it was FORTUNATE for me that I had felt faint. Trying to get on my horse under these circumstances could have been disastrous. Clearly, too, I was going to be walking home, even though I was about as far away from the stable as one could get and still be on stable property --- at least a mile away. It was beginning to become obvious that this day was going to be longer than I had anticipated.
Thankfully, it was a nice day for a walk, although I did have to take my jacket off once I was providing my own transportation. Trying to get it off and tie it around my waist, with my left elbow glued to my hip, was an interesting exercise, but I am known for being stubborn. Getting the saddle back on my horse each time it fell off also took a bit of determination, but at least it was an English saddle.
Grooming my horse one-handed once we got back to the stable was a snap, by comparison. I noticed she was acting as if her neck was a little sore, but otherwise, she wasn’t any the worse for wear. We have a masseuse (for horses) who lives at the stable, and she promised to check on her in the morning for me. With the horse properly squared away, I now had to decide what to do about yours truly.
I knew if I went to the emergency room, I’d be there for awhile, and it was well past dinnertime. I don’t eat breakfast or lunch, so I get pretty fussy about dinner. I decided to go home and have dinner first, THEN I could go to the emergency room. Still full of adrenaline, I valiantly (but unsuccessfully) tried to hold my speed down to no more than 55 mph in the 35-mph speed limits of my ultraconservative home town --- luckily making it home through the usual speed traps with no speeding tickets.
Of course, by the time I finished cooking, eating, and cleaning up, it was past my bedtime, and I’m also pretty particular about getting my sleep, so I decided I could just as well go to the emergency room in the morning. When morning rolled around, though, I decided it would be best to go to work, then I could just make an appointment to see my regular doctor. Once at work, however, I remembered that they don’t really do anything for broken collarbones, so what was the point of seeing the doctor anyway? On the other hand, my doctor’s a pretty reasonable sort, so I finally called her to see what she thought.
She thought I should at least come in for an X-ray, so I did, and $85 later, I OFFICIALLY had a broken collarbone. I promised the doctor I wouldn’t canter my horse till the bone had a chance to heal, then promptly went out to the stable to ride. Getting on wasn’t too much of a problem, with a mounting block handy, but I quickly discovered I wouldn’t be trotting my horse for awhile, either, because even jogging or posting was too much jostling for a broken bone. However, walking was okay, and Tori even seemed willing to keep her shying episodes to a minimum.
The best news, though, was that Tori’s neck no longer seemed to be sore, so (as always) she had apparently escaped her fall relatively unscathed, while my poor shoulder paid the price for her clumsiness. Still, things could have been so much worse. I will never forget the shock of seeing my headless horse lying motionless in the field --- and I hope I never see such a sight again. It made for a very bad day!
Reading Horses Vs. Reading About Horses
Posted by vwkoch, Aug 10 2009, 11:52 AM in Horse Handling Thoughts
I have been thinking recently about how frequently people ask over the Internet for help with their horse problems and how useless it can be to try to solve a problem that way. The bottom line is that you can’t really learn horsemanship by reading about it. It’s one of those things you only learn by experience.
I’m not saying that reading about horses is bad. You can learn an awful lot by reading about horses, but in the end, if you never actually work with horses, you won’t really know them, no matter how much you’ve read. Until you can read a horse, reading a book (or blog or email or whatever) will probably not help you solve your horse problems. Let me give some examples to clarify what I’m trying to say.
Consider the Internet articles intended for people who know very little about horses. One of the things they often tell the reader is that, when a horse’s ears are back, the horse is angry. If you’re not familiar with horses, though, does that info really help? If you see a horse with its ears really pinned, you’ll probably interpret its feelings correctly, but what about the bored horse, whose ears are only partially back? If the article hasn’t discussed ear positions between pricked and pinned, you won’t know how to interpret anything else, and even if it HAS mentioned intermediate ear positions, if you don’t know horses, you’ll still be wondering “how far back is back?” Even worse is trying to interpret pricked ears, which can indicate anything from curiosity to fear. If you don’t know horses, reading about ear positions will help, but it won’t make you a horseman. Only experience gives you that kind of knowledge.
Suppose you’ve been around horses for awhile and you can read obvious things like pinned or pricked ears. Can you now rely on reading to solve all your problems? Probably not. Consider trailer loading, which is one of the most common of horse problems, with TONS of information available for the reading --- but many people still can’t load their horses. Often, they blame the horse rather than themselves, but then, they take the horse to one of the shows put on by a trainer familiar with horse behavior, like Lyons or Parelli or Roberts or whomever (in alphabetical order to prevent accusations of favoritism), and the trainer loads the horse in just a few minutes. Is it magic? No, it’s just that the trainer has the experience to read the horse and know when to back off and when to push to convince the horse that getting in the trailer is the right thing to do. The signs you read in a situation like that are very subtle, and a person is not likely to learn them by reading about them, even if a writer were talented enough to be able to describe all of them. Reading books is not enough. You’ve got to be able to read horses, and reading horses only comes through experience.
Reading books or blogs or whatever can teach you theory, but it can’t teach you performance. You can’t learn to ride just by reading about it, and the same is true of training horses. The worst case scenario is when you think you understand the theory but you don’t, and often, the only way to find out you’ve mislearned a theory is to have a knowledgeable observer tell you so. If you misapply something you’ve read, you can make a problem worse instead of better. If things seem to be getting worse, the best thing to do is to stop doing it yourself and find a good trainer to help you.
I don’t deny that SOME things can be learned from reading. For example, the flehmen response is pretty easy to describe, and when someone on a horse forum asks what it means when a horse smells something then stretches its neck out and curls up its nose, someone else can usually tell them the name of the behavior --- although I’m often amazed at how some people interpret it. (Another thing about learning by reading is that you want to take everything with a grain of salt unless you can verify it in some way.)
It is possible that someone who knows horses pretty well might describe a problem someone else recognizes AND the asker would be able to implement the solution that is offered, but more often, the person describing a problem probably caused it by a lack of knowledge in the first place, and that same lack of knowledge will prevent the proper implementation of any proposed solution. Most problems I’ve seen described could be caused by any number of things, and a person who could describe a problem accurately enough to allow a diagnosis would probably know enough to be able to solve it without help. In other words, in most cases, it’s probably true that “if you have to ask, I can’t help you.” You need a good trainer to diagnose the problem and SHOW you how to correct it.
In my opinion, the reason there are so many myths in the horse world is because of people who can’t read horses. If you can’t read horses, you have to fall back on rules which can’t be broken. For example, it’s really very easy to hand feed a horse without spoiling it, if you know not to feed the horse when it’s being pushy. If you don’t recognize the first stages of “pushy”, though, you’re better off NEVER hand feeding. It’s a myth that hand feeding teaches horses to bite, but hand feeding horses improperly really CAN teach them to bite, and if you can’t read horses, you shouldn’t play with fire.
It takes time and experience to learn to read horses, and not every person can or will make that investment. If you can’t, then by all means, keep reading about horses, and learn all you can that way. Just be aware of the dangers of trying to apply theory without someone more experienced being there to help you. Good advice won’t help solve your problem if you don’t know the correct way to apply that advice. Sometimes, the showing is more important than the telling.
Why People Wear Clothes
Posted by vwkoch, Jul 27 2009, 12:34 PM in Horse Stories
If you asked my horse, she would tell you that people wear clothes for two reasons. The first is so that they have pockets to keep treats in --- and all people are supposed to carry treats. As far as she’s concerned, if you’re a person, then you have pockets, and if you have pockets, then you have treats. Therefore, she greets every person she sees by pricking her ears, arching her neck, and trying her best to look like a sweet but starving horse. (It works really well, too.)
The second reason people wear clothes, in her opinion, is simply to provide her with playthings. She’s very mouthy, and she thinks it’s great that people coverings don’t have nerve endings in them, so she can mouth them without getting into trouble --- at least most of the time. As always at this time of year, though, my horse recently informed me that I am a great disappointment to her. I feel so guilty! In the summer, you see, I just don’t wear enough clothes.
I should probably point out that my horse divides “people” into two categories --- me and everybody else. With other people, she’s entirely focused on begging, and she never tries to play with their clothes. With me, she has to work for her treats, so she rarely bothers to beg. However, I do let her play with my clothes, and she takes full advantage of that privilege (although, of course, there are certain rules she must obey).
Winter clothes are her absolute favorite, because she loves to grab the dangly thing and run the zipper on my winter coat up and down. It moves and it makes noise, and toys don’t get much better than that! I think she enjoys the head tossing involved in the zipping action, too.
The jacket I wear in the spring and fall isn’t as much fun, because the zipper doesn’t work. (If you’re going to let your horse play with your clothes, you don’t wear your good clothes to the stable.) However, since the zipper doesn’t work, the jacket hangs open, so she can still grab the bottom corners and play with those. Biting the zipper still makes noise, and she can also grab the bottom of the jacket and toss her head --- not as good as a zipper but still acceptable fun.
As it warms up, the play quality of my clothes further decreases. I forego the jacket for a long-sleeved, buttoned shirt, so there are still bottom corners to play with, but because the shirt IS buttoned (not hanging open like the jacket), she can mouth the corners but not grab them and toss her head --- and there’s no zipper. As a plaything, the shirt is really pretty boring.
As it warms up further, I start wearing a tank top, and then there’s nothing to play with but my jeans. She can lip the top corner where they snap (or button) shut, or lip the belt loops, or the leather label on the back pocket, or anything else that sticks out, but nothing is as much fun as a zipper. Summer is definitely a bummer, as far as clothing playthings go --- at least from my horse’s perspective.
So what are the rules for playing with my clothes? A rarely enforced but important one is that she can’t do it if I tell her “no.” That way, on the rare occasions when I’m wearing good clothes, I don’t have to worry about getting dirty. Another obvious one is “be gentle”, and a third one is “don’t interfere with what I’m doing.” If she wants to play with my zipper, she has to wait till I’m standing in front of her, and she can’t jerk me (or my coat) around --- or break the zipper. She can play with the jacket when I’m in front of or beside her head, but she has to let go if I want to move away. (She knows the “let go” command, but she’ll also let go if I move far enough to cause a tug on the jacket.)
The long-sleeved shirt and the jeans are much less fun for her, because all she can do is lip them or nibble them. Sometimes, she’ll lick the jeans (an alternative to nibbling), but I usually don’t let her do that for very long. I really don’t like wet jeans! She may nuzzle at the pockets where I have keys or treats, but she knows she can’t grab anything sticking out of a pocket --- even if it’s a carrot. She can’t grab ANYTHING and pull, because nothing has enough leeway for her to pull it without jerking on me. Summer clothes are SO boring, if you’re a horse looking for playthings.
People who refuse to let their horses “invade” their personal spaces miss a lot, in my opinion --- and so do their horses. Not every horse would be interested in playing with its owner’s clothes, but for Tori, it’s a game that helps stave off boredom. The give-and-take involved also helps cement our bond, and it’s yet another way for a horse to learn to be gentle with people. Tori gets to lip and nibble at my fingers, too, because she uses the same gentleness she does with my jeans (and she does love nibbling on my fingernails). Since I hand feed with my fingers, she’s learned the difference between fingers and treats, and if she gets a finger between her teeth, she just lets go. I can’t imagine having a horse I couldn’t trust to be careful around me, but these are things a horse can’t learn if it’s not allowed to get close to people. That fact alone is enough to justify the practice, in my opinion, but promoting the bond with my horse is a good reason, too. I don’t really wear clothes just so my horse has something to play with --- but I don’t mind her thinking so!
Whoever Cares The Most
Posted by vwkoch, Jul 8 2009, 11:52 AM in Horse Handling Thoughts
I believe that life is truly a series of compromises in which the person --- or animal --- who cares the most is the one who gets what he (or she) wants. I know for sure that this method of operation accurately describes my relationship with my pet horses. If they want something more than I want the opposite, they will end up getting to do what they want.
Traditional horse trainers are probably having heart attacks after reading that last sentence, but it is true, and it does NOT cause problems. The bottom line is that I want to be the boss more than my horses want anything, so if giving them what they want impairs my authority, I am not going to give in to them. The point I want to make, though, is that I can give in to them on many, many things and still stay the boss (because they know it was MY decision that allowed them to do what they wanted).
For example, my pet horses learn about a million versions of “no.” One of those versions does, in fact, mean “stop now and never do that again”, and my horses obey that one immediately. However, at the opposite end of the spectrum is the “no” that means “I’d really rather you didn’t do that, but I don’t care enough to MAKE you stop.” In that case, the horse will stop if whatever it’s doing isn’t important to it, but it will continue if it’s enjoying what it’s doing. Whoever cares the most wins.
There are numerous versions of “no” in between those two examples, each representing a different degree of how much I care. My horses can then compare how much they care to how much I care and react accordingly. If they misjudge, I just up the ante with my next “no.” (Not every “no” is a real “no”, either. Sometimes, for example, I just say the horse’s name in an exasperated way. For example, “TOR-ee” is a slightly lesser “no” than “Tor-EE” when my horse Tori is doing something annoying --- but neither one indicates I’m likely to do more than complain. Still, my horse usually stops whatever she’s doing when I whine at her this way.)
I think the concept of dominance is related to “whoever cares the most”, too. Dominant animals (or people) tend to care more, but dominant-subordinate relationships may seem to vary depending on the circumstances. Dominance is valuable because it gives one priority access to resources, but if resources aren’t scarce, maintaining dominance might not be worth the effort. For example, one horse may seem to be dominant to another because it always eats first, but that might be because neither is starving and the “subordinate” horse knows it will eventually get its fill anyway. If food becomes limited, the “subordinate” horse might decide that food (and priority access to resources) is worth fighting for, after all, and suddenly, it becomes dominant. Therefore, the usual horse-training emphasis on being “dominant” to your horse isn’t really worth much, if it’s just seen as “making sure your horse obeys your orders.” The real key lies in WHY your horse obeys your orders.
Consider the following two possibilities:
1. Your horse doesn’t always obey your orders, but when it doesn’t, it knows you are letting it disobey.
2. Your horse always obeys your orders, but only because it’s letting you be the boss.
In the second situation, you might think you’re “dominant”, but in fact, you will only be the boss until your horse cares enough to challenge you. In the first situation, you are truly dominant, even though it might not seem so to a casual observer.
There are other possibilities, of course. Your horse might always obey your orders because you are truly dominant and you care enough about being “dominant” that you never allow it to disobey. The point I’m trying to make in this blog, though, is that you can be “dominant” and still let your horse have its way in the things that don’t really matter to you. If you choose to go that route, you will have a horse that is always testing you to see what the limits are today, and you will have to be comfortable with that kind of relationship. If you’re not, then you should stick with the “never give an inch” philosophy.
If you are confident enough in your leadership position to allow some give-and-take into your relationship, though, you will see your horse’s personality truly bloom. The more interactive the relationship, the more enjoyable it should be --- for both you and the horse. The only important thing is that your horse must understand that it is YOUR choice to LET it disobey occasionally. YOU decide whether to exercise your “dominance” (or not), understanding that whoever wants something the most at any given moment (whether it’s “dominance” or “disobedience”) is going to get it. Letting your horse “win” occasionally need not impair your authority, and it will make life richer for you both. The “real world” revolves around such compromises!
on Teaching Tori To Load --- Backwards