I took lessons from another student who was a German national but learned the French method of dressage while living in Africa.  It all sounds very exotic, but she was reasonably priced and actually taught me a lot of things that no one else has.  I still use many of her techniques to collect a horse and to get them to listen to me better.  After a year she graduated and went back to Germany, leaving Bella and I without a teacher.  While I could ride fairly confidently, Bella was still very green and I knew we needed more lessons. 

I found a woman who seemed great at first, but in hind sight I think the fact that I owned a barely trained mustang put her off.  She was supposed to ride her for me several times but would make excuses and not ride her.  She was used to warmbloods and thoroughbreds, not a little mustang.  There was something else about her that was not quite right and we just never had a great relationship.  While the other instructor had made Bella and I feel very calm and confident, this new instructor did not.

As I mentioned before, the lack of groundwork would eventually cause problems and it was during this time that I realized that although I could ride her, I had no real control over my horse.  The worst incident happened while riding in the arena one day.  The arena sat right by the main road and Bella's pen was on the other side of it.  As we rode next to the road, a hay stacker (a kind of tractor/vehicle that can deliver and entire stack of hay) was coming towards us.  Bella immediately became frightened and took off at full gallop.  I proudly stayed on, figuring that she would stop running at the gate to her pen.  I did try to pull on the reins but her fear overcame any control I might have.  She ignored me.  I hung on, and when we got to the gate, I relaxed and...she did a 180.  I came off into the gate post at full speed, smashing my helmet and giving myself a concussion.  It even tore off my shirt! 

Bella came back and looked at me with this expression of "Wow, what are you doing on the ground?"  It didn't seem to occur to her that I could fall off (see my blog "Psychic phenomena - Bella speaks for more about what happened afterwards).  It took me weeks to recover and more time to feel comfortable riding her again.  The accident made me realize that the dressage instructors I'd hired really didn't seem to know how to handle a green horse.  After doing some research on my own, I decided to do some groundwork with Bella and to stop the dressage lessons.

Before I got very far, though, I would have to move Bella to a new place. She was boarded at the house of a coworker of mine, who eventually decided not to have boarders.  Since she had simply hopped in to the trailer at the prison, I didn't anticipate any problems trailering her to the new boarding place.  I lined up a trailer and on the prescribed day, attempted to load her.  She wouldn't go in. 

If you are a horse person, trainer, whatever, let me tell you before you ask...Yes, we tried THAT! Over the years I have tried every single method of trailer loading a horse!  But this is a story of how I learned things, and so I will stick with the chronological order.  At this point in the story, I didn't know much about groundwork and training.  I had failed to build a lot of trust, although it seemed like I had trust with Bella, it didn't go very deep. 

That first day we tried  many different methods, such as "get momentum", where you get the horse trotting and you run at the trailer...We tried "butt rope", where you hold a rope across her butt (she flipped over backwards and ran off), we tried "blindfold" (only works if they trust you completely, and she didn't, and wouldn't get in the trailer), we also tried "ramp" (the assumption being that she didn't want to step up or off).  Didn't matter, she wouldn't get in.  I spent the next few weeks working with her and the trailer.  We backed it up to the pen and put her food in it.  She happily went into the trailer and ate the hay but if I showed up, she would back out at lightening speed.  I got her feeling comfortable enough to put in one foot and this gave me a lot of hope.  Then, two feet!  She put in TWO FEET!  We are half-way there!  And that's where we stayed...half-way in, half-way out.  At this point, I truly believe that if I had known what I was doing I could have gotten her over her fear and she would be trailering fine today. 

 

                        Bella, as this photo PROVES was at least once inside a trailer!

This was when she was brought from Canyon City.

Finally, I had to move her and made the decision to walk her over to the new barn.  It was about 5 miles away, not too far.  So we headed out early one Sunday morning so there wouldn't be much traffic.  My husband pulled the trailer ahead of us and flagged cars down to tell them to proceed slowly.  She was excited and hard to handle, but we arrived just fine.  The entire episode, though, only brought home the fact that she was not trained very well at all. 

At the new barn things I would learn more about horses than I ever imagined.

My step-mother Arlene, my brother Mark and I all piled into his pickup truck with his girl friend's borrowed trailer in tow and headed for Canyon City where Bella was being trained.  Although I had made an appointment the details about the status of Bella were vague.  I had picked her out at an adoption event in Meeker and the BLM transported her to the prison.  At that point she was in the hands of the prisoners and the wild horse training program.  At that time, from what I understand, the methods they used were a bit more "rustic" than today.  All I knew was that she had been there 6 months, which is twice as long as she was supposed to be.  The man on the phone thought that she should be ready to take home, but he hadn't bothered to verify it. 

So, with some trepidation we arrived at the training area only to find that Bella was out on a trail ride.  The guard called them back in.  We waited on some bleachers while a group of prisoners from the program gathered behind us and began to talk.  After a few moments I realized they were talking about Bella.  They said she had aborted her foal a few weeks earlier. I hadn't realized that she was even pregnant!  They also told me that the prisoner assigned to train her had been removed from the program for drug use. 

When the prisoner rode her into the pen and removed her saddle and blanket, I could hardly believe it was the same horse I had adopted.  With her photo in hand I studied her features and then compared them to the horse in front of me.  She was a different color, her coat was rough and dirty, she had lost a lot of weight.  She looked horrendous!  I was stunned and saddened.  My only thought was that I had to get her out of there that day.




Bella the day I adopted her in Meeker: Fat and Sassy!  She was fat and shiny after coming off the range



Bella more than 6 months after adoption and a few weeks after I got her home from Canyon City.  Her coat
 was still very dull and she had sores on her hips.  If you look closely, you can see her ribs.

The BLM representative, Brian, suggested that I leave her there because her training wasn't finished.  She had fallen through the cracks and due to some problems with the person training her, she wasn't ready to leave.  Yes, she had aborted her foal but they had not called a vet, had not called me, and had no idea why other than horses under stress tend to lose foals.  I was livid, but focused on Bella.  I told him that I didn't care about the money I spent, I had already spent more money to get down here to pick her up and she was coming home with me TODAY.  He acquiesced, finally, and we loaded her quite easily into the trailer.  This will be important later in the story...  Let me say it again:  she loaded easily and quickly right into the trailer!

                          Here she is, IN the trailer coming from Canyon City to her new home.

Once home Bella proved to be extremely skittish and afraid of everything.  She wouldn't leave her pen once she became comfortable there.  Her tail was matted with dried afterbirth and mud clung to her coat.  Once she would let me get close to her I cried into her neck.  I felt so guilty for sending her there and putting her through all that.  For the record, no one had known she was pregnant at the time of adoption, but I couldn't forgive them for not letting me know she had aborted and giving me the option to have a vet look at her. 

Suddenly, there we were, Bella and I.  Neither of us knew anything, both of us full of fear.  But this was my first horse and I wouldn't give up on her or on myself. I would have to do the training that had not been finished at Canyon City. At that moment a horse trainer was born - there was no looking back.



We've got some work to do...


Among the first problems I encountered with Bella, my adopted mustang, was that she wouldn't leave her pen.  She was difficult to bridle, and she had only been ridden a few times. In fact, it was difficult to groom her because she wasn't relaxed and flinched every time I touched her.  I had never experienced a horse that was hard to groom or was afraid of me. As a student at Colorado State University, I had a class taught by Temple Grandin.  She spoke about how animals don't like to go into dark spaces, and I realized that this was why Bella wouldn't leave her pen.  It would require her to walk into a dark barn (the gate to her pen was inside the barn).  Once the door to the barn was opened, she would come out of her pen. However, there were many other things that she needed to learn.

My first lesson was that I trusted myself to know when things made her uncomfortable.  To be honest, I jumped in and did what I knew - moved slowly around her, kept working at something until she relaxed and didn't judge her or myself.  The funny thing is, that patience is now gone from me!  In my quest to become a "horse trainer" I lost that natural connection for a time.  In remembering that experience I realized that something had been lost that was so valuable.

Which is not to say that there weren't things that I learned from conventional horse training and I really did need to learn them.  But the unselfconsciousness is now gone.  In it's place are comparisons to the likes of Clinton Anderson, Lynn Palm, etc. etc.  Did I do it right?  If Clinton did it, would it look like this?  It's easy to get trapped into self-judgement and it's something more of us should avoid to some extent.  More on that later...

I spent the next few months getting Bella to the point where I could ride her, going  very slowly.   She learned to lunge and to stand absolutely still for tacking up.  She let me groom her all over, and she was finally relaxed.  At this point the trainer I had lined up for lessons took over and we began to have riding lessons on Bella.  They went very well for the most part.  Bella learned quickly and I began to relax while riding her.  At this point I had neglected to do much "groundwork".  My goal was to ride, and that's what we did.  This proved a costly mistake later.

I have loved horses since the day I first saw one.  It was hardwired into my brain, and I know I'm not alone.  Those of us that are horse lovers cannot be dissuaded and nothing that a horse can do to us will change our minds. The love of the animal and the drive to be with them overcomes the fear of falling off, getting stepped on, bitten, all the broken bones and concussions.  I beleive that's why people have something they love more than anything else - it's the thing that drives us to face our fears. 

I didn't set out to become a horse trainer.  The only job I knew of where you could ride and get paid was a jockey.  This was a major career goal until I started growing, and growing...and growing.  Way past 5'4" - all the way to 5'9".  Being tall was awful!  All my career goals were smashed, not that we lived in an area where people raced horses.  When I was 8 years old we moved from cowboy country - Denver, Colorado - to Hawaii.  Yes, it's paradise - except if you love horses.   There are horses there, and even a rodeo that we attended as children.  But it was a luxury and all the horse things were far away from our house and what I figured was expensive.  I gave up, which was my first mistake.

My parents used to ask me, especially every summer, what kinds of activities I wanted to do and never once did I ask for riding lessons.  It just never seemed like a viable option.  Then, after getting married to a man in Air Force and getting stationed in England, at age 24 I began taking riding lessons.  Due to our nomadic Air Force lifestyle, I took lessons for 7 years without owning my own horse.   One of my instrutors suggested that I become a really good rider first and then I could buy a horse that needed some training or was more difficult to handle but cost less. 

Finallly, after taking lessons for years, my husband left the military and we moved back to Colorado. I asked  if we could purchase a mustang from the government - the BLM adoption program.  They only cost $125, plus another $300 (at the time - it might cost more now) for training provided by prisoners at Canyon City Correctional Complex.  He thought this was great and more desireable than having a baby, so he readily agreed.  A few months later I was the proud owner of Bella, a black 8 year old mustang mare. 

She spent 6 months at the prison in training, which was only supposed to take 3 months.  I grew concerned.  I called and asked about her and the guards would respond vaguely.  I asked if she was finished with her training and the guard responded that since she had been there so long of course she was ready to go home!  So I headed to Canyon City with my brother pulling his trailer and my step mother in tow.  What I found on arrival shocked and saddened me.

Bella the mustang as she looks today.  The BLM freeze brand can be seen on her neck.

This is the third day of extremely cold weather here in Colorado where the temperature was below zero for the morning feeding.  My horses are blanketed when it gets below 20 degrees to help them keep their weight.  Last year one of my mares, Bella, got extremely cold and wouldn't eat, so I had to move her around until she got warm enough to eat.  Hay will help them stay warm, but when they won't eat it's a real problem.  So we purchased inexpensive blankets from Schneiders last spring and they have been a godsend! 

Most of the horses in our area do not have blankets nor even shelter, and yes they live through it.  However, by spring they are walking skeletons.  Apparently no one feeds extra hay. However, for the initial cost of a heavy blanket, they will maintain weight and be able to fend off spring illness much better. It also keeps me from worrying about Bella getting another deep chill knowing that she has a blanket on and so far, in spite of -30 windchills, not one has been shivering in the morning. 

This isn't what I wanted to talk about though.  I just love it when you go out in the morning to feed and frost has formed on their lashes and nose hairs.  Since Bella and Snickers are dark it shows up on them the best.
I can't help wondering what it's like to spend the night outside in that kind of cold! 

Bella with frost

The Roan Plateau in Western Colorado

                                          Who needs mascara when you have FROST?

If you own horses and have trees in your pasture you have probably witnessed the phenomenon of the bark disappearing from them.  After many hours of research on the web and reading through my selection of horse books I found that no one really knows why they do it. Until now...sort of.  I thought about this for a long time.  I pondered for days, observing them eating the bark.  I watched Snickers get let out his pen every morning only to walk over to the Russian Olive right outside his pen, the kind with very large thorns, and munch a few leaves and small branches.  Hmmm....he did this every day last summer. 

First they started with the larger trees, chewing the bark at chest height all the way around.  In our pasture a number of sucker trees have begun to grow and are now about 3 feet high.  When the pasture turned brown in the fall they finally began eating the sucker trees - thank you! This really confounded me.  Wouldn't the smaller trees be softer, more amenable to eating  than bark?  Wouldn't the bark be bitter?  Do they like bitter? 

Then, all at once it came to me:  it came to me as I was chewing on a pen cap which I tend to do when thinking...  all my pens and the ends of my sunglasses have been chewed and masticated until destroyed.  In school I chewed my pencils, which were much more satisfying!  That oh so wonderful crunch as the pencil wood gave way, the bitter taste of the paint, the occasional splinter.... hmmm.  In times of aggravation or deep thought I need to chew something, and gum just doesn't do it.  Hmmm....are you thinking what I'm thinking?  I think I can understand why horses eat tree bark and chew on wood.  Because it feels good!