A few months ago some guy had purchased himself a horse from an auction. A little sorrel Arabian mare, who came to live at the ranch. She was skin and bones, a scrawny little thing, and had a halter on, that was embedded into her head. (Must have been a cheap buy.) The first time the owner had tried to ride this skittish mare out on the trail she had spooked and bolted. The owner, an inexperienced horse handler and rider, that he was, fell off slamming into a fence post and broke his leg. The mare had later been released into the “skinny” pasture to gain some weight, while the owner was recuperating.
Couple of weeks ago the owner came back, but, as it turned out, he couldn’t catch the mare from the pasture. Apparently realizing his inexperience he had asked one of the ranch hands to help him catch the mare, then train and ride her. So last weekend they had been out there trying to rope the poor little mare, but without any success they had soon thrown their ropes to the ground in frustration and given up.
Hmmm… I was very intrigued.
So one morning I walked out into the “skinny” pasture with carrots in my back pocket, without any ropes, intentions or expectations. There are fife horses total in the “skinny” pasture. Old Blaze, the heard leader came up to me right away trailed by Montana and the Arab mare. After giving Blaze a carrot and lots of good love I began to look very interesting to Montana and the Arab. They both crept closer, took a carrot and I walked away. The next time I went in the trio came to greet me nickering. I gave them all carrots, walked around the pasture as they followed, then left. I had set it up for success.
On two occasions I had gotten closer to the Arab, than the owner and the ranch hand, so they decided to go in with carrots and give it a try.
It didn’t work.
Finally they asked my help to catch her, and of course I was all too excited to do it.
I have to mention at this point, that a few years ago, before I started to study natural horsemanship I considered myself a very experienced horse person. However, after discovering this new dimension and having to rethink and adjust a lot of things I know, that although I have gotten to be rather good at it I’m far from being the excellent horseperson, that I hope to become. After learning the catching game (or call it “join up” if you please) I have NEVER had trouble catching a horse. And it has never taken much longer, than approximately 15 minutes, even out in the great big pasture.
However…
One of Pat Parelli’s favorite quotes is: “I’ve never seen it take longer than two days.”
About two hours into my catching game with the Arab I knew, that this was going to take me two days.
It was still dark when I got to the ranch on Saturday morning. Madeira was surprised to see me. I let her out to nibble on some grass while I finished my tea. Then I put her back in to wait for her breakfast, stuffed my pockets with carrots and walked out to the “skinny” pasture with a halter and a lead rope.
The same trio of horses came to greet me softly nickering, blaze in lead. I gave them all a carrot as I had done the previous times, but as soon as the Arabian saw the lead rope swaying off my shoulder she spun around and fled.
I smiled and went on greeting all the rest of the horses and giving them some long needed TLC. The Arab stood staring at me from the other end of the pasture. As I paid no attention to her she crept closer and closer until she was right back in the herd. I decided to see where she was drawing her lines and walked towards her retreating each time she became unconfident. I quickly discovered, that her personal space, her “bubble” was incredibly large, but she was also very tolerant. I could have walked very close to her without her moving, but I would have offended her. So I proceeded with the catching game and within about 30 minutes she was following me around in the pasture, but never closer than about 2 meters away. Each time I offered my hand for her to sniff, she reached for it with flattened back ears and a crunched up muzzle. I did not want to accept her with that look, so I drove her forehand away figuring, that perhaps I needed to establish some respect.
As I went on I realized, that this horse who had first looked like a right brain extrovert (which would have been a much easier task for me) was very much a left brain introvert, who would come at me with pinned ears and bared teeth, and swing her hind quarters towards me threatening to kick. But she would turn into a right brain extrovert in a split second if she got worried. And she got worried a lot. She seemed to also be extremely sensitive. It took very little to communicate with her and she learned things so fast I was astonished. But she had absolutely no faith in people and she just could not bring herself to trust me.
Pat’s quote ringing in my ears I stood in the middle of the pasture questioning whether I had developed enough savvy at this point to go through with this task. This horse was very smart and obviously had serious trauma from her past. Was I qualified to handle this? But I knew I had to keep trying, because if I didn’t succeed the guys would come back with a whole “vaquero” army to corner, and rope the poor mare, and it would not be pretty.
At 8:30 am the guys came to feed. Fife flakes of alfalfa were thrown in next to the fence. Blaze got the first one. The other three found theirs, and I stood next to the last flake. The Arab tried coming around to her flake. She pinned her ears snaking her head at me. I drove her away. She galloped around the pasture snorting and tossing her head. Every time she came around the food I drove her away. After running around for a few minutes she swung around, stood about ten meters away and stared at me. I quickly turned my back on her and waited. Slowly, slowly she walked over right behind me and sniffed me all over. She sniffed my back, my hair and the lead rope, that hung off my shoulder. Slowly I turned around and offered my hand for her. She looked away. I pulled my hand away. She looked back at me. I offered my hand again. She looked away. I pulled my hand away. She looked back at me. We went back and forth like this for a while until she finally sniffed my hand. I turned around, picked up a handful of alfalfa and offered it to her. She was hungry. I felt bad about keeping her from eating, but I could always feed her later and I saw this as a great opportunity to gain her respect. After receiving a mouthful she wanted more. She pinned her ears and snaked her head at me. I drove her away. This time I kept her running a bit longer. She looked beautiful prancing around the pasture in the early morning sun with her tail flying high behind her.
Three hours had passed. I went on with the catching game. The other four had finished all of the alfalfa, even the fifth flake meant for the Arabian. She hung her head low and submissive as I stood right next to her. Close enough to touch, close enough to put my rope around her neck. But I had no intention of doing either.
I retreated instead. I fetched another flake of alfalfa set it down and she walked right over to eat as I stood next to her shooing away the other four greedy mouths, that all wanted her food and knew they ranked much higher in the herd than the little mare. But now I was building rapport by protecting her while she ate peacefully. It was literally blowing her mind. I stood there for a whole hour so she could eat without being bothered. Then I left.
I was hungry too, and Madeira had been staring at me from her stall for the past two hours.
After spending some time with Madeira, Steal, Kim and baby Leila, checking on Candy who is still lame, and taking care of all their needs, I returned to the “skinny” pasture a few hours later. I caused the Arabian almost immediately to follow me and she stood next to me licking and chewing. Very gently I reached out and stroked her neck close to her withers and although cautiously, she accepted it. What an incredible feeling! She had accepted me. I didn’t even have to put a rope around her neck to prove it. She was as good as caught.
I stroked her on both sides until she licked and chewed, and decided it was enough. I said good night and left.
The guy who had asked my help was disappointed thinking I had failed to catch her. Some of the others sneered maliciously. I tried explaining to them that I had already caught her, but without having to actually brought the horse out no one believed me.
They were getting ready to rope her the next day.
But I got up early again the next morning, walked out into the “skinny” pasture and caught the mare. I walked her into the small arena and left her there with a flake of alfalfa.
All yours, I said. I’m washing my hands from this. But later on I had to help halter her. She is very sensitive around her muzzle. Hey, give her a break, just a few months ago she had a halter growing around her nose.
The guy, who is suppose to train her took my advice to heart though, and did very well haltering her and working with her slowly. The guy has so much potential. And, thank God, he let her back out into the pasture and even took the halter off afterwards.
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