A polite horse has always been one of the most important
things, as a horse person, for me.
Especially the last few years when my under-saddle time has been
extremely limited. We may not be
proficient in the ring, but by golly, we’re good in hand.
I don’t like being pulled
around and dragged from one tantalizing tuft of grass to the other, so I used
to handle my horses in a plain flat halter with a chain over the nose. You never saw rope halters back then, your
choices were only flat leather or nylon.
I know that sounds harsh, but in
fact I had a very light hand with it. As
long as the horse was polite and reasonably attentive to my personal space, he
hardly got touched. Pulling me would
result in a sharp, moderate snap on the shank. Just one,
paired with a spoken
correction. I habitually kept my horses like this for a
couple of years or as long as it took til I was sure politeness had become
ingrained. These days rope halters are
popular, and I see why. Mine has an
extra knot on each side or the bridge of the horse’s nose, and I fit it snugly,
but not tight. A 10-foot rope shank completes the
ensemble. I’m so glad not to have to
fool around with the chain anymore, life is so much simpler! I keep Willow on a loose line most of the
time and I have to say, he’s mostly very good.
I value my professionals, vet and barefoot trimmer, and I know they
appreciate a calm, quiet, unmoving horse.
At this point,
Willow only has two blots on his resume.
He’s still a little leery of the vet, especially when he sees that
needle coming at him. So a week before I know she’s coming for
annual shots and Coggins I start preparing him.
While he’s eating I pick up any little twig and start patting his neck
like prepping it for a shot. At first
this results in bug-eyes and pulling back, but I stay with him til he stops,
and then I quit and give him some space.
I’ll do it again until he at least accepts a slightly more forceful pat
and leave it til the next meal. I
gradually work up to a pretty solid thump and begin touching him with the end
of the twig, mimicking a slight prick.
By the end of the week I can do a pretty good imitation of my vet giving him shots without him more
than flicking an ear. Then I’ll do it while
I’ just holding him and he’s not eating, and we’re ready for her.
The other thing that
I haven’t quite conquered is Willow’s tendency to want to play with me while I
hold him for my trimmer. He stands like
a rock for her, as far as his feet, legs and body are concerned which is the
most important element. But he will lick
my hands and arms and it’s something I’ve been reluctant to discourage because
trust is a big issue with him. I’m
basically glad he feels that comfortable with me as long as there’s no pain for
me involved. As you might guess this
does lead to lipping and then a tiny, sly twinkly-eyed pinch. He’s learned that as long as he’s being a
good boy for the trimmer I won’t correct
him. Sigh. If I snap the shank fast enough to connect
with him he’s going to throw up his head and want to move his body, thus
inconveniencing and startling my her. I
value my trimmer highly and one thing I don’t want is to cause her any
stress. To my embarrassment, I’ve been outfoxed. Or outhorsed.
So I’ve been putting up with it, to Willow’s delight. He never hurts me, just gives the tiniest
pressure to my arm or coat sleeve. He doesn’t even use his teeth, just his lips. The other day I was complaining about it to my
trimmer, who’s a wealth of good horse sense and she gave me the cure. I couldn’t believe how simple it was. She said,
“well I just stand farther away from them when I hold them.” A light bulb moment. Why didn’t I think of that? I was always taught to stand at the horse’s
head for control and I’ve never thought outside that box. I was almost skeptical about it working for
my easily bored gelding, but I moved out to the end of the line, and it was
like magic. He looked at me a couple
times, stretched his head toward me, realized he couldn’t reach me, sighed and
turned into the Rock of Gibralter. I
learned something from her, and something about him at the same time. He stepped right up to the plate, in spite of
literally having enough rope to hang himself with and became the now 100%
perfect horse. That’s my boy.
