Explanation

This is a bit backwards, but since I'm reinventing my Blogger persona to become the Equine Chameleon, I thought a few people might find this blog and not understand.

In the Spring of 2007, my freshman year at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College, we participated in a pilot program with the BLM to receive five year-old mustangs to halter-break and ground train.  This was done as part of a class held every year, required for all freshmen, in which the freshmen halter-break and ground train domestic yearlings, usually Quarter Horses and Thoroughbreds, for outside clients.  With my class, two girls were assigned to each Mustang and told to "get as far as we could with them," after six weeks of classroom classes and training theory.  The goals were to have them halter broken, standing for the farrier, trailer loaded, lunging and possibly ground driving.

Unfortunately a strangles outbreak hit the holding center just before we got them and instead of five yearlings, we got three yearlings (really one yearling and a couple of nine month olds) and two three year olds.  I ended up randomly drawing the three year old. 

What followed turned out to be the most fascinating, challenging and anguished two months of my life.  The three year olds were so much harder to work with than the babies, who had most likely been born at the center.  I learned what they mean when they say the horse is a 'fight or flight' animal.  I got kicked, I slumped to the floor of the round pen crying with frustration, I got rope burns through my leather drivers.  But I also was able to touch my Mustang at liberty after nearly two months of nothing, and finally was able to lead him around in the round pen on the day of my final.  We had to give him back before we could accomplish anything more, and he never really trusted me, but it was the most inspiring two months of my life.

This journal was required for the class, so I decided to blog it.  For more information on the class, please read the June or July 2007 issue of Horse Illustrated.  And of course you can always ask!

Finé

This journal's useful life is over. It's been turned in (with a few stylistic changes...ever a perfectionist). But I wanted to conclude it with this interview from my final. During my final, we were able to touch him and lead him...major steps for this horse.

Cindy: What do you think the biggest thing you learned from this is?

Jen: I learned that I could do it. I've never thought I was capable of training a horse, I mean, that's why I'm a Studies major and not a Training and Instruction major. I taught this horse something.

Cindy: So you learned about yourself. Anything else?

Jen: I learned a whole lot of patience. I also learned his language. Wild horses respond to every movement you make, so its easy to learn their language if you're just watching. We cannot talk and I cannot touch him but I can tell him instantly what I want from him and he responds.

Cindy: What would you do differently next time?

Jen: I wouldn't have started out with him in that pen, and I would have wanted the round pen to myself although I know that's not possible. When we had him in the pen, he accepted what we were doing to him because his body was shutting down out of fear. [Horses will shut their bodies down when faced with death so they don't feel anything.] Now, out here in the open, when he let's us do something it may not be as easy but its because he's truly accepting it.

Cindy: Would you do this again?

Jen: Absolutely. I learned so much about horses in general from this project, its incredible. You guys should keep doing it.

Cindy: No, I mean, in the future would you buy a Mustang and do this again?

Jen: Oh yes, I've actually thought about that. Now that I've worked with them I've come to enjoy working with them, they're not like any horse I've worked with before. I definitely will.

Cindy: Good answers! That's all.

Jen: Just don't get three year olds again.

Cindy: (laughing) Don't worry!

The Last Day

What a great way to end this journal! Today he finally allowed me to approach him at liberty. I'm not even sure how it happened, we were trying to haze him into the small pen to get the lunge line on him, and Christina got frustrated and went for the whip. I noticed he was trying especially hard to get my attention, so I stopped her and went towards him. It worked, surprisingly enough. I just felt it that he was ready and receptive. I can feel this horse. I can control his body with every movement of my own. It's as if there are wires running from his brain to mine, and I know what he'll do before he does it.

That's not to say that I don't get frustrated. Generally, I get frustrated when I leave the round pen and begin thinking about what to do next. My personality leans more towards doing things methodically and doing the same thing over and over; with training a horse, one cannot do that. One must be constantly listening to the animal and using what he tells you to come up with new and different ideas.

This is as good of a place as any to say it: I am so grateful for the chance to have done this. My whole life I've assumed that I don't have what it takes to be a trainer, that I'm not a good enough horsewoman because I got such a late start compared to my classmates. While I'm far from being qualified to really train, at least I have hope now. This has given me the confidence to take on a project horse for the summer. I'll be honest, I didn't read the books we were supposed to read until almost this week. I went off my gut nearly this entire class and didn't want to be influenced by the ideas of three other trainers. I've read a limited amount of literature in the past, but mostly I just wanted to see what I, Jenifer Shetley, had in my heart and soul. Now that I've read the books, I'm seeing that a lot of what I felt is written in those books. That makes me feel a bit vindicated in the actions I've taken with him all semester. With the events of today and reading the books, it makes me feel like I've actually done something right, if there is such a thing as right or wrong in training horses.

The open, trial-and-error format of this class bolstered my confidence more than anything. Nobody would breathe down my neck and tell me what I was doing was wrong. It was so freeing and so conducive to learning. I learned more than I ever thought possible, and so many doors were opened with this class.

Basically...thank you.

Day Twenty-Three

Lots and lots of leading today. He's really starting to trust me, although he won't walk with me at his shoulder. We'll work there. I feel like I'm his savior when Christina messes up, and for some reason, he's harsher with Christina when she messes up than when I do. We've both made approximately the same mistake and yet he wouldn't come near her the rest of the hour when she messed up. Why is that?

I also want to know why he'll let us do whatever we want with him when we have a hold of the lead rope, but we can't get a hold of the lead rope otherwise. He has the strangest pet peeves of any horse I've ever met.

Training is so multi-dimensional. I mean, there's the actual training part, the physical part. Then you have the planning part, which, I'll be honest, isn't that important with this horse, in my opinion. I can't plan things with him, and I'm okay with that. We're slightly left of center as it is anyway. Finally you have that part of him that just doesn't shake him, ever. He's always on my mind, I'm always trying to figure him out. Its a full-time job. I like it, and I wish I had talent for it.

Day Twenty-Two

We led him! Wow, what a breakthrough. He trusts us when he's got the halter on, and took a few hesitant steps forward. Christina thinks that I should always be the one leading him since he trusts me more, and she's walking behind. I don't like that though, I want him to be comfortable with many people. As much as I would love to keep him even for just the summer, I can't. Sara talked about how she can do a lot with a horse in thirty days, but if the owner doesn't continue it at the end of the thirty days its all for naught. That's kind of how I feel about Bob Marley. Sure I'm training him, but if at the end of the six weeks he's not ready to perform for someone else, I'm wasting my time.

I wish I could get in his head and tell him I'm not going to hurt him. He knows that, I see it in his eyes, but he still doesn't trust us. What next?

Day Twenty-One

I'm so confused by him. On the one hand, we're getting somewhere. On the other hand, we're getting nowhere. Is this because I really don't know what I'm doing, or because he's abnormal, or is this normal? I appreciate being left alone, the professors aren't coming around as much and I love being able to try things without pressure, but I feel like I need guidance. Am I reading him wrong? I don't have that gut feeling that tells me to turn back, but I don't have a feeling in the other direction either.

My dream is to someday, a very long time from now, (after I marry rich?) I would like to rescue and retrain ex-racehorses. The reason I'm not a training and instruction major is that I have had way less equine experience than these girls. I went to Kevin and Steffanie when they moved to Salem and said "Teach me." and they taught me a lot in a very short time. In no way am I qualified to train a horse, and I still believe that. Maybe that little bit of confidence is what I'm missing, I don't know.

He does feed off of me, and I off of him. Christina doesn't read him as well as I do, I guess, I constantly have to tell her to slow down, to watch how he reacts and adjust accordingly. I'm learning his language, and that feels really good.

Day Twenty 4/18

I have this feeling that he feels better with the halter on. Cindy suggested we get it back on him, and I said okay. We talked a little bit, Cindy thinks he relaxes more and lets me closer to him. Why is that, I wonder? Christina and I are on equal playing fields as far as training experience goes, and that is zero. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have no idea what I'm doing. It's hard for me to go in with anything more than a skeletal plan because I feel what to do next. Its trial and error, its pressing the bubble. He'll tell me what he's ready for. I'll push him past his comfort zone and he'll tell me. I'll bring him back and he'll thank me. We'll see what happens tomorrow, today was too short and quite uneventful.