ONYX:
Onyx was the black and white pinto gelding from the 3 wild 3 year olds we took on at Fox Fire Stable. This was in the early '70's. There were no books or methods available (that I could find) about humane techniques to gentle the horse who had never seen a human being until the age of 2, 3 or 4. I was young but had a lot of experience riding and training horses and ponies who had seen people, so I figured the main task at hand was to get these youngsters accustomed to seeing, hearing, smelling and being touched by people. Then, I could use my skills like usual. (It did work, by the way - but it is much like the instructions for replacing a kitchen faucet, they say, "first - remove old faucet...") The hard work was the first part!
Onyx was lovely. He moved with anti-gravity, had suspension of stride and his own version of airs-above-the-ground. His sensitivity made him reactive to all the normal goings on in a stable yard and I was wondering if we should just turn him out on the forty acres, provide food and water and simply admire him. Leon claimed him and my brother and I supported him in his quest to tame the black and white colt.
He was wearing a halter, was gelded now, had a tolerance of us in his boxstall for mucking or feeding, could be loose in the barn aisle and could be "herded" to the large round pen to have a run.
We had built a stout round pen instinctively after the wild ones arrived. I found that corners in the stalls gave them places to get stuck and panic, so we decided to have a large space without corners. We could gently get hold of the short cotton fob we left on Onyx's halter, then attach a lead or longe line. In the round pen, I started him on the longe without a whip (I do call them wands because it is only a noun and whip can be a verb - that I do not do). I used my body position to explain to him how I wanted him to move. This was instinctive for both of us - I had been around horses all my life and he had, too. I would then leave him in the pen with water and some grass hay and each day I would toss something new in with him. At first it was a feedtub, then a tire, then a stuffed toy dog, then a bright red ball, then a small canvas tarp - and we left each object so they collected in there. A couple of times I fell over things while longeing him, but even that was good for him to experience.
One thing I never did with any horse was to act like a preditor; to sneak up to them or push them aggressively. The only times any of us had to be loud or make ourselves big and forboding were when a horse tested the boundaries by being aggressive with one of us.
Onyx needed slow, consistent, clear experiences with humans. He got plenty of exercise, but was not in race or endurance training, so he received no grain feed. Only grass hay, alfalfa hay, wheat bran mashes a few times a week with herbs and the trace nutrient supplement "Source" that had recently come out. I will be honest with everyone right now - his first and second hoof trimmings were done tranquilized. I fed it to him well before our farrier and friend (Mr. Jim Keith) arrived. I reasoned that, since it HAD to be done, why let it be scary for the colt?
Leon was grooming him finally with no over reactions to being touched. Leon apprenticed with Mr. Keith and eventually was trimming all the wild ones' hooves. They were starting to accept us within their own time frames and that was just fine with me! We were all learning so much.
SAM:
We had neighbors in Tucumcari who raised Appaloosas. Times were tough for them and they talked me into buying 3 horses, one gelding and 2 colts not yet castrated. Now these horses had grown up with people, so they had a different perspective than the 3 wild ones, but they had their own issues as well. They had not received the best of nutrition, but they had been handled a lot. I seemed to be doing things in 3's! Goldie was a lovely 4 year old gelding with only halter training (!) who took to the longe like a gentleman and I was riding him after 3 weeks. Punkin was only 8 months old, Sam was 2 years and cryptorchid (he only had one testicle descended), so I knew I was looking at a more complex surgery to geld him. Punkin was a solid palomino (who later got some mottling and spots) and Sam was huge, totally the look of an old Nez Perce Appy - mostly white/gray with lots of spots and mottling on the face, sclera showing on the eyes and very striped hooves. His tail and mane were sparse, his bone dense and hooves properly large.
Sam became my project because I just really liked his personality, strength and energy. He seemed so focused and kind. I had a veterinarian friend come out and we set up for the surgery in the aisle of the barn. Against my better judgement, the Vet immediately removed the testicle that had dropped (I made major notes on everything which side had been done - how would we know later if the retained one wasn't found?) It must have been my worrying because he could not find the other testicle. Sam had been under long enough, so we sutured him (actually, I did, my hands were so agile back then) and set up a clean stall while he came to.
I don't remember how long we waited, but I took Sam to the clinic of another friend who was a Veterinarian. We worked for an hour and he found the retained one, removed it and I had a gelding. We started Sam's schooling right away as he needed light, supervised exercise.
A few months later, he was wearing a jumping saddle and longeing well. We put the western saddle on him a couple of times (bigger and heavier, preparing for the feel of a rider, too). One afternoon he was in the cross ties groomed and ready; Leon put a different western saddle on him - this one had a rear cinch attached - so Leon just buckled it without thinking. My brother was standing in the aisle 2 stalls down from the cross ties in front of Sam. I had just stepped out of the tackroom with the longe cavesson. Sam took a deep breath. Then came the explosion! Poor Sam reacted as most horses would - he took off to escape the unfamiliar thing grabbing his midsection/flanks. The 6X6 wooden posts that were the cross ties broke right at the ground. Safety snaps failed, no one of us could have grabbed a quick release in the storm that was horse, legs, ropes and posts flying in all directions. Out the aisle door he went onto 40 acres! As he passed my brother, a kicking hindleg punched through the stall door not 12 inches from his waist.
We ran out to see the not tightened up saddle now slide around and rest underneath poor Sam's belly. Still galloping, now bucking, still dragging the wooden posts, one on each side that were crashing against his legs at each stride - Sam looked like a horse doomed for sure. Sweating, gasping with his head now wrenched to the left as he finally stopped, Sam seemed to be ready for help. I caught up with him half way to the back fence. I was sure I would see broken legs, blood, horror. But Sam was standing there. I talked him into calming and allowing me to get close. The first task was to release the damn saddle. The rear cinch had broken (thank goodness, it was probably why he stopped). I got to the main cinch of the upside down saddle and, it being loose, was able to release the buckle on the latigo. The saddle fell to the ground. Sam jumped to the side. Then he stretched up, leaned toward me and let me disconnect the ropes at his halter. There were no wounds. I could tell he was really bruised, but no broken bones... he didn't even limp as we walked him back to the barn! That was one tough horse! And, with no rear cinch, he was fine for the next saddling a week later after lots of cold water therapy. I had to work hard to keep his accident out of my mind when I mounted him for the first time! He was an angel. I had him going well and sold him as a green prospect for a combined training rider in Santa Fe! Sam was a really great horse, bet he made a super eventer!
Mare & Son & TULL:
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 independent, 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, the friends stayed inside the cab as I led Tull up onto the hill, got to the end of the lead with 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!
