Cherry Horse

Horse training doesn’t just happen by magic. It’s not like you just wake up one day, go to the barn and your horse is trained! I hate it when people act like a broke horse just “happens”. No, it doesn’t.

There’s a girl I know who appears to have this mentality. Her own horse is trained but spoiled, and runs right over her, refuses to stand still and does a hundred other things that my horse wouldn’t even dream of pulling on me. My horse knows I would whip her little spotted butt if she tried.

A couple times this girl has complimented me on how well behaved my horse is. Well, that’s not strictly true. She’s complimented my horse on being well behaved and congratulated me for acquiring such a docile beast. This makes it seem like it’s really not a compliment at all, but more of an observation of my good fortune. You know, like I blindly threw darts at the equine classifieds and managed to land on a broke, good tempered horse.

Normally when someone says nice things about my horse I can say “thanks” and move on. Not so much with this girl, though. I think it’s b/c she’s not really complimenting me at all, she’s just pointing out a fact. It’s like those, “Oh my gosh, you’re so tall!” comments. How does one respond? “Thank you” seems so out of place, it’s not like you accomplished something by being tall. “I know” sounds rude, but it’s closest to how I want to respond. I know I’m tall, and the only reason I’m tall is because it’s in my DNA. It isn’t a choice, it isn’t an achievement, it just is. If you’re jealous that’s kind of too bad, you didn’t win the tall-genes lottery.

That’s how this girl’s compliments come across to me. “Your horse is so good!” On it’s own it sounds nice, but there’s something about the way she says it that makes me feel like she’s saying “You’re so tall!” Like she’s mildly surprised by that fact with an air of ‘I could have been tall too but I’m just not as lucky as you.’ To me it sounds like, “I could have a well behaved horse, but I’m not lucky enough to have chosen one.”

Believe me, lady, Cherry did not come to me like this. The horse you see now is the result of many years of training, effort and lessons learned. She did not come to me well behaved, or terribly broke for that matter. My best guess is that Cherry had 30 days put on her in a colt-breaking class at UC Davis, and was then trail ridden for the next several years, never really learning to be obedient to her rider.

People who knew us when I was high school literally gasped when I told them that I’d been using Cherry as a lesson horse in college and that she willingly and safely carried around small children. Yeah, she was that skittery, that green, and that ill-behaved that beginners would not have been safe on her.

What changed her from being a green-broke mess to a crabby but safe children’s mount?

TRAINING! That’s right, training. Not magic, not a miracle, not sending her off to a witch doctor who sent her back magically trained. I trained her, I put in the effort to shape her behavior, and now I have a well behaved horse

She stands still b/c I TRAINED her to stand still. She doesn't run me over, barge past me or drag me around b/c I TRAINED her not to. She tools around bareback, goes where I tell her and doesn't pull shit on me b/c I TRAINED HER THAT WAY! Everything that Cherry does, I trained her to do.

Well, okay, she was saddle broke and had extensive trail miles on her, but aside from allowing a rider on her back, tying, and having a vague idea what you were asking for up there, she didn't know anything. Or care to know anything. If she saw the point, she'd do it, if she didn't see the point (or just didn't feel like it), then it was just too bad for you.

The fact that she listens, halts on command, respects your space on the ground, and follows orders under saddle is all a product of ME and MY work with her. I don't claim to be any kind of training professional, and our progress was slow to say the least, but it did NOT happen by magic!