Post by tierra madre on Jul 21, 2008 5:05:01 GMT -8
Sweet Boy’s Come a Lo-o-ong Way
Man, Sweet Boy's come a long way. It's probably not all that noticeable to those who haven't known him for the two-plus years he's been here because the change is very, very subtle on a day-in-day-out basis, but I notice it each day.
You know, when he got here - adopted by a crazy woman who really should've gone out & gotten herself a bicycle instead of a horse - he told me in no uncertain terms that he had been brutalized along the way & for all two-leggeds to keep their d**n hands off him!
Put a saddle on him & he'd try - in earnest - to nail you as soon as you reached for the cinch. What he was saying is that somebody'd hurt him bad with a cinch - over & over -either by yanking it as hard & fast as they could or by kneeing him real hard in the tummy so he wouldn't expand his chest when they put the cinch on him (almost all horses do that).
This goofball woman insisted Sweet Boy have a bridle & bit, even though he'd shown time & again that he went just fine with nothing but a halter & reins. Her reason? "Almost everybody I talk to says they use a bit." I actually asked her if everybody told her they were gonna jump off the Empire State Building, would she jump, too? No matter. She wanted a bit. I tried for 45 minutes to try to get Sweet Boy to take the bit & he fought me every second of those 45 minutes. She finally gave up on Sweet Boy because he had a mind & spirit of his own. Like I said, she was looking for something that doesn't exist, other than from Schwinn.
For a long, long time, Sweet Boy wouldn't let anybody touch him when he was in his stall. No scratching, no rubbing, nothing - other than to put his halter on so he could be led outside to be turned out in the arena. Oh - he's always been right there when it comes to taking treats. Pretty much everybody thought he was just the sweetest thing (maybe it had something to do with his name). They never tried to go into the stall with him & touch his neck. He'd whirl that big ol' booty of his straight around at you & if you happened to be in the concrete 'inside' part of his stall, that whirling could jam you right up against the wall, leaving you with a real nice concrete scrape that wouldn't heal for weeks.
Passage of time & a whole lotta love......
He now loves to be scratched - on his terms, but hey. Know how that was accomplished? Every afternoon, after I've distributed all the food & supps, I go around & refill everybody's water. With Sweet Boy, I stand outside his stall & run the hose into his bucket. He started coming up to me - on his side of the fence - & I'd slowly reach out & scratch him behind the ear for a minute. This was all at arm's length - I had to reach in as far as I could. As time has progressed, he's come a little closer to the fence, making it easier to scratch him. Then, one day, he moved a little so my hand was a little farther down his neck. "So far so good", I could hear him say.
Well, this has all progressed to the point where he walks right up now - right close to the fence, too - & asks, no - demands - that I scratch him on the withers, on his shoulder, on his back, down to his tummy. And he stands there, with his lower lip just a-danglin' & his teeth showing like he's smiling. And he is, too.
Now, when I turn him out in the arena, we explore all the spots where scratching makes a difference - his butt, legs, all the way down his back - everywhere. A total change from the little guy who showed up here with a monster chip on his shoulder.
I think here's the secret: I let him decide all this on his own time. Not a single iota of pressure. Time wasn't & isn't a factor. Too many people seem to be in a rush to change years of horses' learned behaviors. "Oh, you were mistreated for nine years? Well, I'm here now & it'll be different. So do what I want you to do now." Think about that. Would you trust that person before he or she earned it? Neither will a horse. And, depending on the prior & current circumstances, a horse may never trust you or any other two-legged again.
Here's the real ironic part about Sweet Boy: the name he came with was Parelli. That's right, his name was Parelli. After Pat Parelli, one of the world's great horsemen - the guy who thinks like a horse & teaches people that, if you really want to do it right, treat the horse with utmost respect & love.
And here came Sweet Boy, as brutalized as any horse I've ever met.
Jim
Man, Sweet Boy's come a long way. It's probably not all that noticeable to those who haven't known him for the two-plus years he's been here because the change is very, very subtle on a day-in-day-out basis, but I notice it each day.
You know, when he got here - adopted by a crazy woman who really should've gone out & gotten herself a bicycle instead of a horse - he told me in no uncertain terms that he had been brutalized along the way & for all two-leggeds to keep their d**n hands off him!
Put a saddle on him & he'd try - in earnest - to nail you as soon as you reached for the cinch. What he was saying is that somebody'd hurt him bad with a cinch - over & over -either by yanking it as hard & fast as they could or by kneeing him real hard in the tummy so he wouldn't expand his chest when they put the cinch on him (almost all horses do that).
This goofball woman insisted Sweet Boy have a bridle & bit, even though he'd shown time & again that he went just fine with nothing but a halter & reins. Her reason? "Almost everybody I talk to says they use a bit." I actually asked her if everybody told her they were gonna jump off the Empire State Building, would she jump, too? No matter. She wanted a bit. I tried for 45 minutes to try to get Sweet Boy to take the bit & he fought me every second of those 45 minutes. She finally gave up on Sweet Boy because he had a mind & spirit of his own. Like I said, she was looking for something that doesn't exist, other than from Schwinn.
For a long, long time, Sweet Boy wouldn't let anybody touch him when he was in his stall. No scratching, no rubbing, nothing - other than to put his halter on so he could be led outside to be turned out in the arena. Oh - he's always been right there when it comes to taking treats. Pretty much everybody thought he was just the sweetest thing (maybe it had something to do with his name). They never tried to go into the stall with him & touch his neck. He'd whirl that big ol' booty of his straight around at you & if you happened to be in the concrete 'inside' part of his stall, that whirling could jam you right up against the wall, leaving you with a real nice concrete scrape that wouldn't heal for weeks.
Passage of time & a whole lotta love......
He now loves to be scratched - on his terms, but hey. Know how that was accomplished? Every afternoon, after I've distributed all the food & supps, I go around & refill everybody's water. With Sweet Boy, I stand outside his stall & run the hose into his bucket. He started coming up to me - on his side of the fence - & I'd slowly reach out & scratch him behind the ear for a minute. This was all at arm's length - I had to reach in as far as I could. As time has progressed, he's come a little closer to the fence, making it easier to scratch him. Then, one day, he moved a little so my hand was a little farther down his neck. "So far so good", I could hear him say.
Well, this has all progressed to the point where he walks right up now - right close to the fence, too - & asks, no - demands - that I scratch him on the withers, on his shoulder, on his back, down to his tummy. And he stands there, with his lower lip just a-danglin' & his teeth showing like he's smiling. And he is, too.
Now, when I turn him out in the arena, we explore all the spots where scratching makes a difference - his butt, legs, all the way down his back - everywhere. A total change from the little guy who showed up here with a monster chip on his shoulder.
I think here's the secret: I let him decide all this on his own time. Not a single iota of pressure. Time wasn't & isn't a factor. Too many people seem to be in a rush to change years of horses' learned behaviors. "Oh, you were mistreated for nine years? Well, I'm here now & it'll be different. So do what I want you to do now." Think about that. Would you trust that person before he or she earned it? Neither will a horse. And, depending on the prior & current circumstances, a horse may never trust you or any other two-legged again.
Here's the real ironic part about Sweet Boy: the name he came with was Parelli. That's right, his name was Parelli. After Pat Parelli, one of the world's great horsemen - the guy who thinks like a horse & teaches people that, if you really want to do it right, treat the horse with utmost respect & love.
And here came Sweet Boy, as brutalized as any horse I've ever met.
Jim