What I Learned from Working with Snowy

Snowy, 8 months old: Clydesdale/TB cross - Sunday, Jan. 12, 2003
by Joyce Leake

This is a story about our colt, Snowy. He was foaled on our property on the last snowy day of May, 2002, thus his name stuck. He is a bay colt with two white hind stockings and a white blaze on his head. He's very sweet, but he is in that "colt" stage, awaiting gelding.

Some people were coming out to see him for a potential sale. It is important to present your horse in a mannerly way, and that was Roy's intention when he brought him in from the pasture, where he lives with two adult geldings. Bringing him in was no problem. However, after a day spent in his run, he became grouchy and agitated that he wasn't out in pasture. His demeanor had changed and he became scary, as he put his rear end towards Roy and pinned his ears. No matter what Roy did, Snowy ran and bucked in his pen. Roy was soon angry, intimidated and displaying the symptoms of "out of ideas and tools" to deal with this erratic behavior, coupled with a very cold day, when time was of the essence.

Lesson in Intuition and "Teaching"
2 days prior to our "lesson", I had come home from an appointment, and it was late, about 6:30. The kitty, Playmate, was still outside, and Snowy was still in the run alongside the barn, agitated at being there, and not in the pasture with his two gelding pasture mates.

I came into the living room where Roy was in his chair. I was clearly disturbed with the kitty being outside, and Snowy not where he belonged. However, I did realize that Roy had put him there because someone was coming to look at him, and make an assessment for his upcoming sale.

Roy immediately knew I was upset, and instantly told me he couldn't get the halter on him to take him back over to the other pasture. That didn't satisfy me, because I "knew" that Roy was probably not patient enough with Snowy, because it was cold outside, and Roy doesn't "do" cold very well.

Anyway, Saturday passed, because I had an all-day meeting. When I came home again, later in the evening, Snowy was still outside in the pen. I tried to hide my frustration, but didn't do a very good job of it, and huffed some more. Again, it was cold outside; Roy hadn't fooled with him very much, and had probably given up, being angry about his lack of accomplishment with Snowy.

Sunday morning came, and I was determined to get Snowy back into the pasture, where he belonged. After breakfast, I went outside. The weather was warmer. Roy worked outside on the arena project, and I worked with Snowy.

He is big, strong and worrisome to me. I am not a horse trainer, but have attended clinics and read books, magazines, etc. and thought I could apply the same tactics that I used with other horses to Snowy. So, I did the round pen exercises, in the makeshift arrangement I had next to the run. Snowy trotted around the pen, but basically ignored me, or put his rear-end towards me to threaten me. It scared me, and I was intimidated by his size and actions.

I used a stick with a baggy on the end to "extend" my arm, so to speak, and gained some success; with Snowy letting me touch him all over, with no resistance. That was a breakthrough, and I was pleased with it. But getting close to him seemed miles away.

I could feel my agitation rising, as this was a reminder of how Roy probably felt, dealing with this young whippersnapper. I got angry, (the number one "wrong" thing to do) and really felt frustrated as if I was "out of tools." So, I left Snowy for a few moments, and looked around the pastures, just to change my sense of frustration. It didn't disappear, however, I could feel the frustration mounting even more. I knew I was backed into a corner. I heard myself blaming Roy for having this colt in the first place. I was angry about being put out to train "his project", and being left with no time to work with my own horse. I continued to blame Roy and feel mad, and then it came to me; that this wasn't going to change anything. The colt was still going to be where he was. Roy had given up. I wasn't interested in hiring someone to come out, because that would take days, and I was literally backed into the corner. This was ridiculous, and was not going to change anything.

I remember someone saying that she had heard a clinician once say loudly to a clinic participant, "You have a problem. Get over it, and deal with it before you come back." What humiliation that person probably felt, and, needless to say, what helplessness as to what to do about it! How could she "get over it and deal with it", amidst all her frustration and helpless feelings? I was in her spot, and I had to "figure" it out.

Do Something About It
So, I decided right then and there to "do something about it." I felt helpless, because I have watched these talented clinicians "do their thing" with ease and perfection. Me, I am fumbling, dealing with my own fears, watching the rear end of this guy too close to my person, trying to interpret all these signals with the fumbling nature of a pure amateur. Even though I have done this, countless times, with other horses, it wasn't working with Snowy.

So, I decided to stop again, and go back to a square foreign to me, because it wasn't in the "new way of thinking" method. I put a folding chair next to Snowy's run, sat there with my kitty on my lap, and spent some "ignore" time with Snowy. He came over to me, and I acknowledged his inquiries quietly by saying hello and not touching him. I felt his sniffs. He'd come and go, back and forth. I'd breath out and he'd mimic me. The kitty played with me, and his curiosity kept him coming back. Finally he just stood off to the side, yawning with sleepy eyes. I took that opportunity to speak softly to him, telling him he deserved to take a quick nap, because he had worked very hard.

Into the "What's Right" Process
Slowly, I put the kitty down and went to the barn to get a brush and a 4' rope/string. I had thought about the lady who boards her two geldings here, and just relaxes with them every weekend slowly brushing them and speaking softly to them. This is her relaxation and enjoyment. Just to spend time, peacefully and quietly, with her two horses. Wasn't this what I teach to others? Once again, I found myself falling into the "what's right" process. It's so easy to get caught up in the "correct in the magazine vogue" actions, and to override our intuition or previous experiences.

Thank you for that reminder.

Anyway, I entered Snowy's run. His relaxed demeanor changed instantly. "She's coming back in to harass me." I could feel his fear well up, and mine followed. "This is ridiculous. Why can't I achieve the same calm feeling that I had when I was sitting outside the run with the kitty on my lap?" So, I breathed, softened my whole body and backed slowly, inch by inch into his space, not crowding him, being watchful for any signals that I have encroached too far. If that happened, I'd back off and relax, and do it again. I extended my hand, and let him sniff me. (That was my invitation to him.) I retracted my hand. I repeated the action a few more times. Next time, I touched him lightly on the neck, and he didn't move away (his return invitation to me). I did. I repeated this again and again, increasing my strokes and soft voice and breathing.

I used the brush to stroke him the next time, and he melted. I was clearly "in" (all invitations offered and reciprocated). That was my welcome, my clear invitation that I was accepted in his world. I had to be careful, however, so as not to overload him and wear out my welcome. (This is when most people definitely wear out their welcome. People are very demonstrative through enthusiasm, not knowing, or because their ego gets in the way, and they become pushy.) Trust was so fragile that "knowing" when to stay or back off was crucial. It is at that point when the invitation doors stay wide open, the horse wants more, they completely close, the horse shuts down and shuts you out, or a small crack is left, saying, "I don't know where I stand on this, but I will leave the crack, just in case I decide to trust you again."

We spent more time than I imagined, just stroking, brushing, talking in the sun, practicing extending and accepting invitations. I had the rope/string over my arm the whole time as it moved with me. Snowy was apprehensive, but soon realized that the rope came with the nice hands and soft voice. It would touch him, and gradually I slipped it over his neck, taking it on and off. He accepted it, while building more trust.

We kept improving our time together. The rope slipped on his nose and over his ears. I had a willing participant, so we could move a little quicker. We practiced lowering his head, as he mimicked me lowering mine.

I switched the rope to a rope halter, and practiced more and more, putting it on and taking it off. Then I attached the halter, and asked him to come with me. He took a few steps, and then refused. I practiced the lower the head routine the whole time, stroking and talking to him. The next time I moved, he came with me willingly.

Our leading lesson continued from there, as well as "stop", "back up" and "move right and left". It was a great time spent together. I ended it with more soft brushing and voice. He yawned, closed his eyes, and lowered his head himself that time, and it was over. Time to put the lesson plan on hold until another time.

At feeding time, I approached him, petted him, and told him how wonderful he was, and that tomorrow we would practice again, and we would go to the other pasture with his buddies.

What did I learn from working with Snowy?

• I had a task I didn't want, but made the best of it.
• My anger didn't get me anywhere.
• Even though I may be displaced, with something I don't want to do, it does me good to do it.
• Slow is best.
• I had fallen into the "do it right" trap.
• I had fallen into the "do it the way I am supposed to do it" trap.
• Once I listened to "me", I could read Snowy's signs more clearly, without fear, intimidation, or judgment.
• Building a relationship is vital in any activity you wish to achieve, and without it, you only get 1/3 of what you want out of it.
• I decided I enjoyed working with Snowy. I had thought otherwise, because I felt intimidated about trying.
• Self-confidence is something you have to earn.

We've continued with our relationship opportunity. Snowy is a willing student, and really tries. He wants a connection as much as I do, and that's great.

From that experience, great things have happened. Over the weekend, some people came out to see Snowy. Roy, my husband, was so impressed with the changes in Snowy that he asked me to "teach" him how to do it with his horse. Yippee! (She really wants in, but has been looking for him to take the first step.)

When his new owner, Ben, met Snowy, the bond was obvious. Snowy moved easily from me to Ben, knowing that Ben was "his". He chose Ben, clearly, and that made it just a bit easier to send him on his way.

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