The Thinking Horsetrainer

Tequila...the therapist

Published by Cari Zancanelli under , on 8:23 PM
It's not what you think.  At least it wasn't supposed to be.  I named her "Tequila" for her color, in an odd moment of enthusiasm.  The thing is, she has really lived up to her name.  Would things have been different if I'd named her "Easy Susy"?  The world will never know.  She is and will always be Tequila.  Yee HAW!!!

Tequila can buck VERY well.  She kicks those back legs up like a champ.  She can also have an attitude, like a cheap brand of Tequila.  When I first started to train her to be saddled, she would get really nasty.  She would bite at me and  when I got after her, she always looked contrite.  So I would pat her neck.  And she would bite me again. Talk about rubbing salt in your wound! 



A friend of mine was helping me with her.  My friend was younger and sort of cocky.  She had just trained a stallion and she felt pretty good about it.  I understood her new-found confidence and also realized that she would meet a horse that would better her.  Like Tequila was bettering me.  The cockiness would disappear on it's own.  Like mine.

I had adopted Tequila at two years old from the BLM.  She was completely wild but with the help of another trainer we got her halter broke and then I worked with her on the ground. She learned to be groomed and to lunge.  She has always been touchy about her body and I think I have finally conquered her last touchy spot.  She is now 12.  She knows her ground work perfectly.  In fact with her, it seemed like the longer between our sessions the harder she tried and the better she remembered.  At least with groundwork...


Things started out pretty well.  I was able to work with her regularly. Then things fell apart.  I got divorced and had no time to work any of my horses.  She got groundwork sporadically for a few years and the issues with saddling only served to put me off. She has a rather long back and short legs, making her look a bit like a buckskin Dachshund.  I figured that her attitude about the saddle might be due to a physical problem and so I thought I'd enlist the help of my cocky friend who I'll call "Lynn". 

Lynn had taken a weekend course in Equine massage therapy.  I don't think she'd had much experience really massaging various horses, but I wanted to give her a chance to do her thing.  Before I say anything else, let me just say that I was feeling terribly guilty about not having been able to work with Tequila more.  She was now about 6 and long due to be ridden.  As I went into her pen to catch her she shouldered me and I let her.  I allowed it because I felt guilty and I thought that I should be "nice" to her to make up for it.  None of this was obvious to me, though, until Lynn said, "She is really taking advantage of you.  She's pushing you around." 

She might as well have stabbed me in the heart.  "NO!" I thought.  I would never let a horse do that... Embarrassment flooded through me but when I came to, the facts were laid bare.  Yes, Tequila was pushing me around like a punching bag.  Yes, her mom had allowed it.  Lynn was right, though I had a very hard time admitting it to her. 

My interactions with Tequila began to consume me.  What else had she been doing?  Well, for one she liked to bite me when being saddled.  It really pissed me off, though.  It pissed me off so much that I didn't want to deal with her.  Why the anger?  As it turns out, Tequila is the horse equivalent of my brother.  My brother would often be mean to me, then act as if he were sorry and then he would come at me again even meaner than before.  He baited me to keep coming back for more.  I stood in the barn one evening saddling Tequila, determined to get her to accept the saddle without being a brat.  I cried and then stood there looking at her.   That's when  the pattern, the same pattern that defined my brother, became obvious.  I threw my arms around Tequila's neck and cried. 

In that moment something happened.  The breakthrough wasn't all mine.  Somehow, when I hugged her like that all the anger I felt melted away.  I wasn't mad at her, it was all anger at my brother.  Wow.  That day I like to think that I forgave her and she forgave me.  From that point on, no more guilt and no more letting her get away with pushing me around.  Our relationship changed. 



Tequila taught me that so often we treat our own horses differently than other people's horses.  If you are a trainer, it is easier to look at a clients horse more objectively.  My own poor horse, left at home to wait for me, became my psychological enemy in a sense.  My own issues overshadowed the training, unfortunately.  But the good thing was that I listened to Lynn, and realized the truth of what she was saying.  Thanks to her I was able to move forward with Tequila.  Today things are much better but she is still a tough cookie to work with.  More on that later... The important thing is that I don't let my personal guilt get in the way. 

Thank you,Tequila,for being my therapist!

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