A New Wrinkle (Tex part 4)

I worked a bit with Tex again. He is a Kentucky mountain horse who rides well, but is hard to catch. I’ve been working with him on that problem. You can read about our progresss here and here .


The situation had changed a bit this time. Tex had slipped into the main pasture with the other geldings while some other horses were being moved. There was only so much I could do to control his movements in this much larger field. We had to work largely on trust. It wasn’t such a problem getting to Tex. The problem was the other horses. Since Tex is the new guy in the herd, all the other horses were picking on him. It’s just something they do to establish a pecking order within the herd. Whenever I got Tex’s attention and started to move toward him, other horses would approach me, and Tex would back off. A few times, more aggressive horses would chase him away. Eventually, I got him separated from the bunch. When he tried to rejoin the group, I simply walked at an angle that he could see would intercept him. That turned him back. When other horses tried to approach, I chased them off with the lead rope. After doing that a few times, everyone understood that Tex and I had our own business to attend to.

Once we had some space to ourselves, we got to work. Tex had retreated to a small stand of trees by the fence. I approached him as I had in the previous sessions, sort of zigzagging my way towards him. I gave him plenty of space. When he got nervous and moved off, I just stayed between him and the other horses. He never made a break for the wide-open field. He just returned to the little stand of trees. We did that a couple of times before I could get close enough to touch him. When I did get beside him, I slowly raised my hands, keeping them close to my body. I allowed him to touch my shoulder and hands with his nose without attempting to catch him. I wanted him to see that he could do that without consequence. About that time, one of his companion horses from the other field approached from the other side of the fence. The other horse casually reached across the wire and started scratching Tex’s withers. Apparently, having two friends at once was a little more than Tex wanted to deal with. He walked off. I gently shooed the other horse away, then, circled around and got Tex back into position. This time, once he let me touch him, I gently clipped the lead rope to his halter and we walked to the hitching rail. While I was grooming him, the boss told me that he had found out some more of Tex’s background, and that they had accidentally found his “hot button”.

It seems that, sometime in his past, Tex has been beaten. I had suspected as much. Tex performs so well under saddle, yet he is tense and “jumpy” while you’re on the ground. That would explain why he flinched at my touch early on. I have gained a bit of his trust since we started. He doesn’t flinch, and it doesn’t take as long to catch him as before. Another rider had found his “hot button”. Fortunately she was in the arena at the time. Tex had been ridden, with nothing unusual happening. Then, this rider just happened to touch his rump with her right boot as she was mounting. In the bosses’ words, Tex “came unglued”. He didn’t say whether or not the rider was thrown. But, thankfully, she wasn’t hurt.

With that knowledge, changed my approach. I needed a way to convince Tex to stand still if someone drags their foot over his rump, or pokes him with a foot while mounting. I didn’t see the incident, so I don’t know how much pressure on his rump it takes to set him off. I started with a slight amount and began working my way up.

After he was tacked up, I took off my hat and began rubbing him with it. I started at his shoulder and worked up to his head. Then I worked back to his rump, being careful to stay out of range of a cow kick. Tex was tense, as usual, but he stood still on a loose rein. Next, I went over him with my hands. I rubbed him, scratched him, and gently poked him with my fingertips. Again, he stood still, but tense. He did flinch when I poked him in the hollow of his hip. That gave me an idea of where his sensitive spot might be. We went into the arena and I climbed on board, being careful not to touch his rump. I put him through his paces, and then we stopped in the center.

I did the same thing from the saddle with my hat and hands as I had done from the ground. I had to remind myself to keep a relaxed seat. I wanted to be ready if he “came unglued”, but I didn’t want to communicate to him that I was worried. I use a rather small, light, synthetic western style saddle. The big “cowboy easy chairs” keep me too far away from the horse’s back. The small saddle makes it easier for me to read the horse’s movements. The opposite is also true. The horse can read my intentions through the saddle.




This is the best pic I have of my little saddle.  (This is not Tex.  I don't have any good shots of him yet.)

 But Tex stood still with the reins draped loosely over the saddle horn. And he didn’t flinch when I poked near his hip this time. Next, I slowly went halfway through the motions of dismounting. As I did, I drug my leg across his rump. I was standing in the left stirrup, in a vulnerable position. My plan was to kick out of the stirrup and get away from him if he started bucking. He didn’t. He stood there on a loose rein. Then I reversed the procedure. I slowly drug my leg across his rump as I swung back into the saddle. When I was younger, I would have just done it without thinking it through. Now, I make sure I have an “exit strategy”. In this case, I would kick out of the stirrup and get away if he acted too badly before my leg was halfway across. More than halfway, I would try to get a seat and ride it out. If I couldn’t get a seat, I would use the emergency dismount. Having a plan helped me stay relaxed and not communicate any nervousness to the horse.

I repeated the drill two or three more times with the same result. Tex stood still on a loose rein. Next I tried bumping my right knee into the hollow of his hip as I mounted. Still, there was no reaction from him. During all of this, I was careful not to poke him with my foot. I’ll save that for the next session. I ended this one with lots of praise and neck scratching. We’ll see how things progress next time.

Rosie on the Trail and Tex, the Kentucky Mountain Horse

We took Rosie on the Amelia Springs trail ride. She did pretty well, for a youngster. I was very proud of her performance at mounting and dismounting. She did well in spite of all the excitement of a strange place, strange horses, and a big change in her routine. All weekend long, I mounted and dismounted from a block or the tailgate of my truck while Rosie stood quietly on a loose rein. She was obviously tired by the halfway point, so we took the short route back to camp from the lunch area. That way, she didn’t have to worry about keeping up with the rest of our group, and we walked a good bit of the way back.

Rosie and me at Amelia Springs
photo by AntscapePhoto.com

She was a bit nervous about being alone for a while, but she settled in as other riders overtook us. While all this was going on, the boss was in negotiations to buy another horse. We ended up bringing a Kentucky Mountain Horse named Tex home with us.


We had watched Tex perform on the trail and could see that he was an experienced and proven trail horse. I rode him for the first time the other day. Folks had told me he was hard to catch, and a little “jumpy”. I didn’t have to worry about catching him; the boss had left him in the stall for me, after feeding him. At the hitching rail, I could see what folks meant by “jumpy”. Tex was tense. He stood still, never offering to move or shy, but he flinched nearly every time I touched him with a brush or my hand. Tacking up was no problem. But, even though he accepted the bit, he kept his head high while I bridled him.



He was obedient, but stayed tense as I led him to the arena to mount up. We knew he was a good riding horse, we had seen him working on the trail. Still, his body language had me half expecting him to shoot to the moon when I mounted. But he stood still. He did move off before I got my right foot in the stirrup, but it was a simple thing to stop him and get situated. Once we started moving, I found Tex to be a dream to ride. He neck reins, he stops on command, he has a range of comfortable gaits. We’ll work with him some more and see what develops.

Tex, relaxed and all business under saddle.
photo by Debra Wood Ferguson

Cherokee has graduated! (Hawk pt 1)

Friday, May 4th, 2012

I didn't get out to the farm last weekend, so Cherokee has had a few days rest.  Or so I thought.  I went there today thinking to let him work on his ditch crossing for a bit.  As I was pulling in, I met the owner at the head of an outbound convoy of horse trailers.  We stopped to exchange a few words before he pulled out.  He said "If you're looking for that little mountain horse, we've got him in the trailer."  We've been riding him, and he is awesome!"  Then they headed out for a three day ride in the Carolina mountains.  So, now my once naive little pupil is out in the big wide world, earning his own keep.

Before he left, the boss pointed out a big, brown, pinto walking horse.  He said "That one has been giving his rider some trouble.  Get him out, and see what you think."  Hawk is tall, muscular, and alert.  I'd never ridden him, and didn't know his personality.  He has performed well, but now he is not holding his gait.  I gave him a good brushing down, and began to saddle up.  He shied away from the saddle pad, which surprised me a bit.  I got the feeling that it was an act.  The riders at this barn are mostly beginners, with a few intermediate level folks, and a couple or three experienced riders.  The horses are chosen carefully to match that.  I knew Hawk to be a veteran trail horse, with no major behavior issues.  I spoke to him firmly, and continued the chore.  He settled down, but nipped at me as I tightened up the girth.  I don't tolerate any behavior that can hurt a  human, especially on the ground.  I spoke sharply, and thumped his nose with my finger.  He didn't need any more than that.  With the saddle screwed down tight, we went into the arena to do some work.  He continued trying to buffalo me as I mounted.  Nothing aggressive, he just tried to crowd me while I tried to get my left foot into the stirrup.  I kept the off side rein tight to keep him straight, while I repeated the command, whoa.  Once I was in the stirrup, and committed, he stopped his antics. 

Hawk is not a mean horse, he was testing me.  After I was in the saddle, he waited for me to get settled and give him the command to move out.  When we started working, I quickly realized his problem.  He was anxious to move, and move out fast.  He wasn't concerned with holding the smooth, fast, and comfortable racking gait that walking horses are famous for.  He only wanted to go fast, at any gait whatsoever.  It was also difficult to get him to move in the direction I wanted.  Not that he didn't know what I wanted.  Now he was trying to bully me into letting him be in charge. 

One of the things I've noticed in recreational trail riders and horses is the tendency to simply go with the herd.  If someone up front decides to move out at a faster pace, all the horses in the group want to do the same.  Many, many riders seem content to let the horse make the decisions for them in this situation.  The result is often that an intelligent, and strong willed horse, like Hawk, decides he no longer needs to take direction from his rider.  I only worked him for about an hour.  Just long enough to make an assessment.  This seems more of a case for training the rider, rather than the horse.  Although, Hawk will need some work to get him to return to his natural walking horse gait.

Taming Water Monsters (Cherokee pt 1)

Had a very satisfying round of horse work this past weekend.  Been working with a young Kentucky mountain horse named Cherokee.  He had a good start with a professional trainer, but apparently was kept mostly as a pet after that.  Darn shame, because he has a silky smooth gait that makes me want to put on a flat topped Zorro hat, and ride with a glass of wine on my head.  He is a big scairdy cat, but that comes from being sheltered from the big wide world.  However, his personality and training shows through in his trust for the rider.  It is fairly easy to push him through whatever startles him.  The exception has been crossing water. My instructions from his new owner are to get him trail ready.  I'm convinced that he's never seen natural running water until a couple of weeks ago.  He seems convinced that a horse eating monster will get him as soon as he gets his feet wet.

His first experience was on the perimeter trail around the farm.  There's a ditch there, with a tiny trickle of running water in the bottom of it.  I finally convinced him to cross it.  After a lot of hesitating, and attempts to duck and run, he jumped it.  A very herkey-jerkey affair, and no fun at all.  Next, it was on to the trail in the big woods with the real creek running across it.

The next weekend I rode out with a small group of trail riders, hoping to use the herd instinct to my advantage.  The farm is located within an easy ride of a rather large state park, with a very good trail system running through it.  In spite of his naivety, the little horse ambles effortlessly over the trail as if he knows this is what he was born to do.  That is, until we came to the creek.  He wanted nothing to do with it.  I had pulled to the rear of the bunch, so we wouldn't interfere with anyone else if he refused, or jumped.  Nothing dramatic happened.  He simply couldn't be convinced to get any closer than 10 feet from the edge.  We tried a second time, riding in the middle.  Still no luck.  We tried to pony him across with an experienced rider leading him by the off side rein.  Nothing. Finally, I dismounted.  While the other riders waited patiently, I tried to lead him across.

The creek is about 10 feet wide, and about knee deep in the middle.  There are stones piled up on the downstream side to allow hikers to cross without wading.  I stepped into the water, but he wouldn't follow.  Finally, after I splashed around a bit, he became curious enough to splash a little with his nose.  Rather than hold up the trail ride, I called getting his nose wet, without panic, a success. We doubled back to a fork in the trail, and took another route.

The rest of the day was a big success.  We had a long ride and worked up a good, honest sweat.  There were two wooden bridges to negotiate, I'd wager the first he's ever seen.  A pair of ducks flew out from under the first one, just as he stepped on it.  He danced across it without coming out of his skin.  At the second one, he was obviously worried, but soldiered across bravely.

Last Saturday, I avoided the group ride and took him out alone.  I wanted to see if he was herd sour.  It also gave us the whole day to cross the creek, if we needed it.  Cherokee is not herd, or barn sour.  He loves being on the trail.  He moves with his head and ears up, and seems fascinated with how big the world is.  We rode straight to the creek.  He recognized the place before I did.  I felt him tense up, just before it came into my view.  I didn't take him straight to the crossing.  Instead, I dismounted in a grassy area by the pond that feeds the creek.  I let him graze, and have a look at the pond.  I splashed around at the edge, and he came to have a look.  When he seemed comfortable near the water, I remounted and headed to the creek crossing.  As I expected, he refused, just like before.  However, this time, I was using a rope halter, a 25 foot training rope, and a bunch of carrots.

I pressed him a bit, but he still wanted nothing to do with the water.  I dismounted, and gave him a bite of carrot, just to let him know that I had them.  Stepping into the water, I called to him, and pulled gently on the rope.  The long rope allowed me to let him know I wanted him to come across, without putting too much pressure on him.  It also let me keep him from turning away from me.  After some coaxing, he stepped to the edge and investigated the water with his nose.  I rewarded him with another carrot, and crossed to the other side.  With the long rope, I could pull him toward me and still give him enough slack to keep him from panicking.  I could still control his head enough to prevent him from turning his back on me.  It also allowed me to keep a safe distance, in case he decided to turn himself inside out.

I was prepared to spend the entire day getting him across.  It actually took only a short while to accomplish. After some hesitation, and attempts to turn back, he took a few steps into the water.  He splashed about with his nose, then stepped tentatively across.  I gave him another well earned carrot, and remounted.  Cherokee normally stands still for mounting, but he was still nervous, and wouldn't this time.  He had just passed a major hurdle, so I didn't worry about it. 

The crossing lies on a neat little loop trail within the larger trail system.  We rode around the loop until we came to the creek again.  Once again, he refused to cross, so I dismounted and led him.  This time, he allowed me to lead him directly across.  He got another carrot for that.  Instead of continuing on, I turned him around and went into the creek again.  I stopped him halfway across, and gave him yet another carrot.  He was nervous, but I kept him there for several seconds after he finished the carrot, then led him out before he panicked.  Once on the other side, I mounted again, and turned back to the creek.  Success!  With only a little urging, he splashed across.  He was still obviously nervous, but he stopped on command on the other side and stood for me to pat his neck and praise him enthusiastically.  We rode out on another trail, and met up with some other riders and finished out the day as a group.

The following day, we struck out alone again to reinforce our success.  He hesitated at the crossing again, but, with only a little urging, stepped into the water.  I stopped him halfway across, to see how he handled it.  He was trusting, but nervous.  He stood with a slack rein, but I could feel him trembling.  After some encouraging words, and a pat on the neck, we crossed to the other side.  We rode to the top of the loop and turned around to approach the creek from the opposite direction.  This time, he simply put his head down and picked his way across like a veteran trail horse. 

There is another creek on a trail farther out in the same park that I want to try.  This one is about twice as wide, and has a big noisy dam spillway next to it.  And, we still have to smooth out that ditch crossing.  But, I'm pretty enthusiastic about young Cherokee's prospects.