So much happened during those years in Tucumcari. Before the 3 wild youngsters, I had gone to Albuquerque to look at a mare and gelding who happened to be dam and offspring (I quickly realized that the gelding, at age 8, had never been emotionally weaned!). They were so sweet and just as calm as could be when riding, so I bought the two of them, then started trying to load them into my horse van. The 11 year old mare, Ginger, a small, pretty brown QH type went right up the ramp; turned around and backed into her stall. I put her in the cross ties, fastened her chest bar and hung her hay net. Two hours later, I was still trying to load the gelding, "Gunner". Ginger did not care where he was, but he frantically wanted to be with her yet just could not force himself up that ramp. The sellers had left, but returned to let me know that Gunner had never been off the property or in a trailer... I was starting to think better, knowing this. Poor guy, it was so stressful for him. I decided to push the ramp and sides back in the van, back it up to a hill and get the ramp more level. When he thought that the truck was leaving with "Mom", his eyes got huge (thought he was going to cry!) and as soon as I had things set up again at the hill, he closed his eyes (I'm serious) and just leaped into the van, barely touching the ramp. It was a peaceful trip back home for me with the 2 new horses munching their hay quietly, the headlights of the truck cutting through the dark and the desert air flowing through the tilt cab's vent windows.
Gunner and Ginger turned out to be great school horses and in time, he was able to bond with the other geldings and become an independant, middle aged, bay fellow with the cutest little ears and funny narrow chest!
This experience helped me later when I was in Las Cruces and had taken the horse van to Roswell to buy a gelding for my school. The big, bay Quarter Horse gelding did not want to go up that ramp (and let me say right here that these were the only two horses out of over a hundred that did not like the van - most horses just loved it and walked in and out with confidence). But "Tull" (I named him Jethro Tull) needed to get in - two friends had gone with me, we had mountains to cross to get home and it was getting cold and dark! I had to back the van right up against a steep hill; no ramp or sides, they stayed inside as I led Tull up onto the hill, got to the end of the lead myself in the van and asked the 2 cowboys to be super assertive and just send him forward at me. They didn't want to - I encouraged them... when they got after him, 1,400 pounds of Tull leaped right into the van and stopped 6 inches in front of me. "Good man!" I told him; turned him around, backed him into his stall, etc. and we were on the road!
Tull was a funny horse. He wasn't working out for the school. He was too sensitive to leg aids and needed one, consistent rider. I had sold a "babysitter" horse to a family a couple of years earlier who now wanted something a bit zippier for the father/husband. I needed a horse like "Halftone", the one I had sold them; so we arranged a trade - IF they liked Tull. They came to Briarwood with Halftone in their trailer. The husband led Tull around, tacked him up and I talked to him about how to relate to this new mount. He got on, dug his heels in (my heart jumped into my throat) and Tull literally "blasted off" across the arena and down through the turn out. The guy stayed on, steered him back up to the stable yard, still at a gallop. They slid to a stop and, smiling, he said this was the best horse he had ever known. WHEW!
