SEPTEMBER 2005 • HORSES For LIFE™ Magazine

For thousands of years, it is through story telling that history was passed on, that lessons were taught. True Teachings is a series of true stories of real horses and real people. Told so that the lessons learned from some very special horses can be passed on as stories have been used for centuries to pass the lessons that are too valuable to be lost.

The Black Stallion

I remember sitting around the coffee table with a good friend of mine and laughing at her, every horse she got had to be black. Jet black. Didn’t matter the breed, didn’t matter if the horse went well for her. It just had to be black and she was happy. Of course after the story of the Black Stallion, there was a small part of every young girl that had the dream of the beautiful black stallion. We all dreamed of finding a wild stallion that would only respond to us, whose beauty and wildness was all tied up together. Who wouldn’t let any one else ride him. The small beautiful Arabian head on the lean and powerful body of a thoroughbred that Farley Mowett described was the horse on every young girls dreams.

But I was an adult and I could laugh at my friend, until one day….

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“Oh, please. Would you please consider taking this horse on? I can’t believe these people I don’t know what they have done to him."

"I had to bring him home, there was no way I would let them trip him."

"They said it was the only way they would try to ride him again, after flipping over backwards twice on two riders."

"I just don’t understand. I have raised him since he was a weanling, he has always been sweet to handle and now I can’t even lead him."

"He crashed me right into the feed bin this time and I am black and blue everywhere."

"Breeding season is just about here. Even if you could just get him to the point that I can lead him again, that would be great.”

And that was the day that against my better judgement I agreed to take on the black stallion. I had a reputation for retraining impossible cases but I did wonder if maybe this one time I should have said no.

One day later the owner pulls up with her horse trailer. I can tell she is nervous, even before we go to unload her stallion. We back the trailer right up to the barn, it is only a few feet to the stall, where the door is already open.

Actually with a minimum of fuss the horse is unloaded and in the stall. Its evening so with supper already in the stall, I leave him to get used to his stall.

“I really want to show him is there any way you would consider riding him”

“Let me start with the ground handling and then I will let you know, if I will consider giving it a try” One of the few times I’ve said something smart in my life.

The next morning I go out to feed the horses. The first stall I go to is my new boarder. And what do I see when I open the door to put the hay in the stall. The wild black stallion described in the book, when Alex first goes on the ship, teeth bared, ears flat, head lowered, every muscle in his body saying I don’t like you, I hate you, I don’t trust you. I have never, ever seen before or since a horse that looked so absolutely vicious.

But now I have a problem, I have this stallion in my barn that needs to get out, but I know that he thinks it is fun to bash people around on the lead rope. I put a lot of thought into it and decided well step one was definitely get to the point that I could at least go into the stall without the black demon going into attack mode. But I didn’t have any easy answers. I don’t live in a book, where a few lumps of sugar is going to make a vicious stallion suddenly a friend of mine. But I thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to spend a couple of days in the stall, getting used to the place and to us being around. It was a busy few days, with lessons and chores. So I was in the barn more then normal. When it was time to clean his stall, we let him just run into the attached indoor arena, and then ran him back into his stall. At least this way he wouldn’t go totally stall crazy.

Without me doing anything, maybe just because he watched me with the riders and the other horses during lessons a significant change occurred without me really noticing. When I walked into the stall to feed, his ears were down, but his teeth weren’t bared. Those white teeth really did look menacing against his coal black coat.

Well the third day he was there, it was time to see what would happen so I took him into the indoor arena on a lead rope. He was already used to going there everyday so he took it in stride as no big deal. I began to walk him around the arena, and then he decides he has had enough. Up, up on his back legs, neighing his challenge, his front legs pawing the air above my head. And then….

done he came, gentle as a lamb and was standing quietly beside me.

Luck was with me that day. When he went up it was so sudden I didn’t even have time to react and when I did look at him at the corner of my eye(either that or I was frozen in fear) I noticed that when he went up, he went straight up, he hadn’t swiveled towards me to really threaten me and when he was pawing, his leg that was farther away from me was the one way up high in the air, not the one closest to me. And he was watching me! He was waiting for my reaction. He was faking it. His eye was calm, relaxed he was totally doing it for effect. The little poseur. So I didn’t do a thing. I didn’t move, I didn’t react, I waited till he was done on all fours and then quietly told him to walk on. And that he did! Quietly and without fuss.

Next step, was to see what he would be like walking down the alleyway with other horses in the stalls.

To be quite honest, he was a literally an idiot. Snorting and neighing his challenge he literally tried to climb over the top of the stalls and climb “in” to attack the horses in the stalls. So here I have this huge brute, standing on his back legs totally ignoring me, trying to kill one of my horses. It was like the book all over again when the Black challenges every other stallion he sees. One problem is that these were not stallions, and two these were my horses. I have to admit I had a tantrum on him. Not that he noticed. It was disgusting. The least he could do was acknowledge that I exist. But no, his hormones were in overdrive. As far as he was concerned we didn’t even live in the same country, let alone on the same planet.

The solution? Of all things. My dog. He could see I was being ignored and that didn’t sit too well with him. If I said trot, he expected the horses to trot, and he knew what a trot was, and if they didn’t listen to me, he would make them listen. So in behind the stallion he goes barking and threatening to nip the stallion’s heels. Well that black devil had to bring his front feet down so he could kick the dog with one of his back legs. Well the dog was no fool, he was gone out of range of those dangerous sharp hooves. So the stallion figured okay back to attacking the gelding in the stall and up he goes again with me yanking beating and yelling at him. Back comes the dog, down comes the stallion to kick at the dog, but the dog gets out of the way on time. Well as it looks like the dog is having more success then I am, I figure maybe I should let the dog and the stallion settle it. I keep a light hold of the lead rope and within a few minutes the stallion figures out that he needs to keep all four feet on the ground just so he is prepared for that stupid dog.

That was the last time that stallion ever tried it. For the next few weeks I always made sure that I had the dog around in the barn and that stallion was so busy watching that darn dog, he didn’t have the time to attack the other horses. And after that he and the dog were buddies but he had decided by then it wasn’t worth it.

The next step was for the next day, to try to lead him outside to his corral. From everything I had heard I knew there would be trouble.

And there was. I tried to be ready for it. I expected him to take off. So instead of just putting a lead rope on him, I put an extra long line on so that I would have the extra length. Luckily the corral I was putting him in, was the first one out of the barn, because he got away on me. He fooled me perfect gentlemen as long as we were in the barn, three steps out and he took off like a bolt of lightning. I didn’t have a chance. But now I am absolutely paranoid, I have this valuable breeding stallion running around his corral with a rope on. I flashback to other times when I have seen horses, step on their own lead ropes and I am cringing waiting for an accident So I run into the corral to catch him, and he just keeps running. I am watching that rope and his feet like it is slow motion waiting, watching for him to step on the rope as it trails underneath his four legs. Ten seconds, 30 seconds, that darn horse is amazing he can run around and have this rope snaking underneath him and know exactly where that rope is at all times. Never came close to stepping on it even once. I chase that black demon for five minutes and never get even close to catching him and then all of sudden he stops, squares up facing me. I look at him waiting for him to take off in whatever direction next, as he just looks at me. So tentatively I take one small step and then another, walk right up to his highness while he looks majestic waiting obviously for me, the peon to get over to him and take off that silly lead rope so he can go eat.

It was a game. His game. One he played almost everyday with me. I tried. But he was bigger and stronger then I was and he knew it. I never did win that one. I thought about extreme measures but didn’t want to take the chance on hurting someone elses horse, especially one so valuable as a stallion. But he never took advantage, only went into his own corral, never bothered the other horses, even the mares when they were in heat.

The second day I took him out he scared the bejesus out of me. Running around with the lead rope again and he charges at full gallop right towards me. He did not look like he was going to stop. I thought he was going to run right over top of me. You know I do wonder if he ever read that story about the black stallion. There’s a piece where the black stallion and Alex play tag. And that is exactly what he was doing with me. He would either swerve at the very last moment or if he was ready to have the lead rope taken off, he would slide to a halt in front of me and wait patiently until I did my job. Then he would follow me around the corral like a puppy dog.

Well a week had passed and I call the owner up to say that I am willing to try to get on him, but I make no guarantees. I think maybe I had rocks in my head. Or maybe, just maybe I was starting to fall in love.

I spent the next couple of days, trying to decide how to approach the problem of getting on him. I sure didn’t want to happen to me, what had happened to the last rider. A horse going over backwards with a rider on his back is not a safe place to be.

First day, I have butterflies in my stomach. I’m scared. I have no idea what to expect. All we are going to do is see if he will behave while I mount on him. I have someone hold him on a lead rope attached to the halter, with a bridle over the halter. He snorts, he sniffs, he is tense and he starts to throw his head up, down around, his tongue comes out the side of the bridle, his head and neck are literally making a 360 degree circle around and around. I’m on him, but I know I don’t dare touch one of the reins.

Back to planning. For hours everyday, I spend trying to figure out this horse and how to work with him.

Day Two. I have someone lead me around at a walk around the arena. Same problem. He is literally going berserk with his head. What to do? I know its dangerous at this point to even touch the reins, he will flip right out. But if I don’t have somebody leading the horse. How am I going to turn him? How would I ever stop him.

Day Three. We have a pile of hay at one end of the arena. Every time we go around the arena. I have the volunteer stop at the hay, so he can have a mouthful. And I praise him.

Day Four I have person leading me to the end of the arena on the lead rope. Then at the end of the arena, for the first time I ask her to unsnap the lead rope. I take a deep breath and ask him to go. He takes off at a fiery trot but I don’t even look at the reins and he stops at his pile of hay, as I shakily settle down in the saddle. Thankfully it worked.

Day Five I have someone lead me to one end of the arena, let go, the stallion takes off for the other end where the hay is and stops. And we repeat this sequence again and again. I start by asking him to whoa just before we get to the pile of hay, but only using my voice. I have started holding the reins at the buckle which has him worried but I ride with them totally slack.

Day Six. As he goes to stop at the hay. I put the smallest amount of pressure on the reins as I say whoa. But otherwise don’t touch them. He is starting to get the idea.

By the end of the following week, he decides that he will accept me riding on contact, he has decided that I can be trusted and I will ride him with soft yielding hands. I learn that he has the most sensitive mouth I have ever felt on a horse. Almost like he has extra nerve endings even on his tongue.

Our hands, besides our tongue is one of our most sensitive and flexible parts of our bodies. Sensitivity in our hands cannot be taken for granted and need to be encouraged, need to be developed to their maximum potential to play the right tune on our horses mouths.

I know why, now, he went over backwards on the other riders. I had the opportunity to work with a couple of riders that had originally trained in this stable. This stallion was just too sensitive to be ridden with a fist. Inadvertently without them realizing it, they had literally pulled this coal black stallion over backwards, The sad part is that their next step would have been to trip him. What damage could have been done both to his body and his spirit. They were the professional trainers, and they were probably scared. Rather than look to themselves as being the problem though, it was the horse. Because they were the experts.

I would hope that as any of us progress in our riding that we realize that the more we know, the more we would realize there is to learn.

....

So began my odyssey of with riding with the Black Stallion.

This horse was phenomenal. Every day I had to be ready to teach him five new things. But I also had to be careful. He was a green horse, I had to be careful not to overstrain either his muscles or his joints. But if I didn’t have those five new things for him to learn, he would get bored and that was when we ran into trouble. I’ve never studied so hard or spent so many hours doing homework as I did when I was riding that horse, not even when I went to university. Seven hours of reading, thinking, figuring out what we were going to do the next day. Not only did I have to have something new to teach him, I also had to have three to five ways to explain what I wanted to teach him. I knew it was up to me to find a way to communicate what I wanted for him to do, it was not up to him to figure it out, or ever be forced into doing something. It is inherently cruel to the horse to just pull harder on the rein to turn a horse, if they do not understand what you want them to do in the first place. With this horse not only would it be cruel, it would be dangerous.

As you can imagine, he progressed quickly, my only problem is that I didn’t have an accelerator, a gas pedal. I don’t know if it is true of all stallions, but this black devil had extra nerve endings everywhere in his body. This was sensitivity to the nth power. When I tried to use my legs even softly and quietly, he would actually slow down. Back to the books.

Okay, now I know he knows to move away from a cracking whip when being free lunged. So I thought if I use a dressage whip to lightly tap him to reinforce my leg, he should get the idea. Well, that didn’t quite work out as planned. I used my leg and followed up with a light touch of dressage whip, and he stopped completely.

Totally opposite reaction of what I was looking for. Not only that I knew in my bones that if I tapped any harder, he was getting ready to dump me. He was planning on it. There was no doubt in my mind. How did I know? He was standing quietly enough. There was a certain tension in his body. I knew. He was being kind to me by stopping, it was his way of warning me. I wonder what would have happened, if I hadn’t been listening.

Back to the drawing board, back to the books.

You know you never want to be a rider around me. I decided I needed a ground person. So I convinced someone to do me the favor of ever time I said “now”, they were to swish the whip behind the stallion. All I had to do was use my leg aids the moment before, but that poor grounds person.<laugh> Running from one side of the arena to the other, from one end to the other for three days, before that stallion finally made the association between what I was doing with my legs and what that whip was making him do.

That definitely taught me that horses just know to go off our legs, it is a learned response. Not a natural one. Something that has helped ever since when I am working with both green and advanced horses. Because an advanced horse can unlearn to move off your leg aid or learn to be less responsive to a leg aid.

He was gorgeous. He had the Arabian head with the body of thoroughbred with a little more body and substance. He wasn’t a really big horse, but he looked huge. He carried himself with a stallions presence, proud, defiant, with movement that sparkled. Every step bounced. Not bounced, floated. His black, was so deep that in the sunlight he was a mirror. He gleamed with health and vitality. He epitomized life itself he was so full of it. He sparkled with energy with a life force, an awareness. And that awareness went through every molecule of his being.

I am not joking about how aware this horse was. He had body awareness in an entirely new dimension. I will give you some examples.

One day, we are trotting around the arena and I can’t even remember what we were working on. And he disagrees with me about something I said. So he decides to tell me off. I mean I have had other horses who have done this. Sometimes they will pull on the reins or give a little half buck, some will try to take off, they all have some way to tell us off.

When I started taking lessons long ago I rode a sorrel gelding called Comanche. And that horses favorite trick was to try to rub me off on the fence. And he was good at it. He could do it not only frontward but going backwards as well. And he got right next to the fence. Don’t ask me how I did it but I quickly learned how to lift that leg off the side he was rubbing, almost to on top of the saddle.

Well here this black demon was giving me flashbacks to Comanche. He heads for the side of the arena his body parallel to the arena wall. But yikes! He is going at a trot, at least Comanche only ever did this at a walk with me.

Now our arena walls set in about six inches from the dirt arena floor, a small pad of concrete provided footings for the building and the girders, that six inches I was talking about. If you can imagine me cringing as we get closer and closer to that wall, the stallion has one front foot on that pad, then a second…

That dang horse ended up with all four feet on that concrete pad at a trot. If you can imagine a balance beam like they have in gymnastics, but one side of the balance beam is a wall. That is what we were doing. Remember for some silly reason I am still on this horse’s back, if I had any brains I would have bailed.

Now my mind knows that the only forgone conclusion here is that I will be lucky if I don’t come out of this with a broken knee cap at a minimum. I wince and grit my teeth waiting for my leg to impact the wall.

…

And seconds later we are back on the arena floor and off that balance beam. And I am shaking my head in disbelief. I mean it is just not possible. “How, could you..” “how..” “but we were just…” As I said I am left shaking my head, as far as I know there is no physical way that a horse could do that and not hit that wall. But he did. I didn’t even get a scratch.

Unfortunately that became a new game for him. Show off.

I honestly believe that horse had so much body awareness that not only did he know where his side was in relation to the arena wall, he also knew where my body was in relation to the arena wall. Dang I wish I had a horse like that when I was trail riding through trees. I can’t remember how many times my knee has hit a tree, because a horse thinks if his body fits through, so should mine.

Then there was the time we began working over cavaletti. Caveletti are just small jumps about the size of a log. I wanted to just give him an introduction to jumping. Trying to find one more way to keep his mind amused.

I’m not sure how it happened, it may have been him, it may have been me, but somehow we got our timing wrong on one of those jumps. We took off way, way too early and he ends up with one of his front feet coming down on the jump pole. Dead center. I wince waiting for the crack of the pole breaking as it hits the ground. Well no crack.

Not only no crack. The pole doesn’t hit the ground.

Not only does the pole not hit the ground. It doesn’t budge.

Not only does it not budge. He ends up on the other side, over the jump with me still on top of him.

If you remember the part in the bible when Jesus walked on water. This was kind of like that. He knew he was in trouble, so he needed to get himself and me out of trouble, so he walked,.. in the air over the jump, without ever putting any downward pressure on the pole, merely, well I don’t think the word merely applies here, but he did step on the pole. I mean he couldn’t help it, he had to. But as a fulcrum as a balance point for the rest of this body and mine. It was amazing to ride.

I don’t blame you, if you don’t believe me. But I was there and honest, this is what happened. And I knew after these two incidents that I could trust this horse with my life. That here was a horse that would turn himself inside out to keep my safe, always. When I was on his back I trusted him more then even my 20 year old school horses that I used for a disabled riding program.

The black stallion had become mine. With trust came love, not only my side but from his. I taught him how to trust again.

Not that he was perfect. He had good days and he had bad days. Some of the young girls that were riding with me, would hang around the barn all day. And they would come running up and beg me to let them brush him in his stall, or go play tag with him in his corral. And some days I would say yes knowing that he wouldn’t hurt a flea and other days, I said no, respecting he was feeling a little grumpy. So we gave him his space.

It would warm your heart, to see this big “dangerous” stallion lowering his head so a eight year old girl could brush his forelock or watch him galloping, neighing across the corral, his black coat gleaming against the bright blue sky of summer, playing tag with two girls their ponytails flying.

I had grown up and found my black stallion. The stallion that every little girl dreamt of when they read the book. And just like in the book, he came to me wild, untamed, dangerous, and through love and kindness he was tamed.

To me there is only one way to train. Through the heart. I become attached and love every horse that I work with. I know of no other way. Again and again my riders have asked me, who is your favorite horse and my reply is simple, whichever one I am working with at the time. How else do you develop the sensitivity, the empathy to communicate to share feelings and maybe one day thoughts? And horses like children know, you cannot hide how you feel, who you are, from them. They see beneath the surface right into your soul. And I have seen again and again how the horses respond to this. It is always how much you know, or how well you ride, it is as much or more how you feel about who you are riding.

Over the next few years the black stallion would come and go, he would come to me for training and he would go back to his owner when it was breeding time. For me this was ideal, as he being the bright boyo, he was, quickly figured out that our place was to work and play and the other was where he got to assert himself as a stallion, shall we say. It didn’t matter who was in heat in the arena with him or on the property, he never even thought about breeding a mare. And with this he seemed content.

His owner, one wish was to ride her own stallion. She had dreams of showing him and winning ribbons on this big black stallion. She probably had the same dreams as I did as a young girl, of becoming friends with the black stallion.

I did offer to teach her lessons on him at my place, once he got going. She took me up on my offer only twice and both times, being a green rider she was insecure and tense. But I was proud of him, even with the jerkiness of her riding. He took it all in stride. No flipping out and thankfully he never flipped over on us. I was so proud of him. And I think he knew it.

I always felt that she was intimidated by him. Which somewhat confused me. Since she was the one that handled him during breeding season. I tried in a nice way to ask her about this, thinking that perhaps I could help in some way, but she always assured me that she felt totally confident around him. The problem is you can never fool the horse. They always see inside.

Other riders came up to me on several occasions, suggesting that they too had noticed that his owner seemed intimidated by her own horse. But if she wasn’t going to admit her fear, I didn’t think there was a lot that I could do about it.

But there were signs.

One day she brought a shiny new halter for him. I offered to put it on him when he came in for the night and exchange it for the one he had on now, as he was turned out for the day in his corral. But she insisted she wanted to put it on him now and that she wanted to put it on him. Well I tagged along, I was, I admit a little concerned about a stallion with no halter getting away on us.

From the beginning, he had always acted differently on our property, then elsewhere. Why, I don’t know. But the fact is, he did. For example, at his owners he lived behind a stud fence that was over five and a half feet high and he still jumped out of it on a semi-regular basis. At our place he lived in a corral converted from an outdoor arena, with a fence maybe three to four feet high and he never, ever jumped out. Why not? Who knows. But this is why I was a little concerned. And he did act differently around his owner.

Well she gets outside and he comes running over. For some strange reason he loved coming in at our barn. But to my surprise rather then stepping into the corral to change the halters, she decides to do it over the fence. Well I know that my school horses might, might let me take their halter off over the fence, but put another one on, that is doubtful. Extremely doubtful. And so it was in this case. She got the one halter off, but once he felt the freedom he was gone. But he was having fun doing it.

Of course he knew exactly what she wanted to do. He just didn’t want to cooperate. But it was too much of a temptation not to do a little bit of teasing. You know pretend you are coming to within hands reach and then jump away. Run up and down the fence line on the inside of the corral, while she ran beside him from the outside of the corral. He was having fun. But she wasn’t. She was getting frustrated.

In the end, she gave up, gave me the halter, I did the obvious which was walk into the corral, he walks over, drops his head into the halter, and on it goes. I don’t think she appreciated it. But I did try to tell her. Oh well.

I mean it is not like he didn’t like to do his share of teasing with me. He still liked to get away from me and run around with that silly lead rope dangling under his body.

Days later, his owner was back again. I can’t remember what she was doing or why. But the stallion again was outside enjoying the sunshine and I think she offered to bring him inside for me, to work with. She frequently came to watch me work with him. Well somehow he got away from her. Which was unusual for him. He never, except for this one and only time, ever try to get away going into the barn, only when he was going out in the morning.

Well she lost it on him. I’m not sure what her logic was. But here she is trying to catch the horse, while yelling and snapping a whip at him at the same time, while she had him cornered. Well, I personally think that his reaction was completely understandable, which was, you are not getting a hand on me, crazy lady. The more she yelled, the higher he would rear, the higher he reared, the harder she snapped that whip. The battle escalated quickly. Someone was going to get hurt.

Probably the wrong thing to do, but I intervened. Yes he was her horse. But it was on my property, in front of my riders, and she had lost it. Of course, once the whip was removed from the equation he was easy to catch and calm down. I wish the same could be said for her. I do think that she was so scared of him that she always had to have that whip handy. Sad, really.

But that was the beginning of the end. One day when I was gone she came and got him, and he never came back for any more training.

Instead she hired a girl to come work with him at her farm. A girl that believed in domination, in discipline in its worse connotation. A girl that trained her horse to ground tie, by beating on it every time it moved. I wasn’t surprised to hear via the grapevine that if you drove by you would more then likely see the two of them out chasing that black devil up and down the ditch, because he got away from them again.

I always felt that he never understood. That in his mind. I abandoned him. How else could he view it? Why did I not come to him? Why did I not come save him? Why wasn’t I there for him?

Yes I love every horse I work with, but with him it was different. We were sympatico, we were soul mates. He was mine and I was his, and you would never be able to convince him other wise. No piece of paper could change that. This was reality. Many people saw this. Many people commentated on it. You would have to be blind not to see it.

The black stallion had become mine. With trust came love, not only my side but from his. I taught him how to trust again.

I did a terrible, terrible thing.

And I know you can’t hear me, but I am so, so sorry.

The next time, I saw him was several years later, at a horse show. I wouldn’t have recognized him except for who was with him. He was diminished. He was so small. The magnificent black stallion, looked like a pony.

I taught him to trust and they used that trust to turn him into this. All so that she could ride. She had to diminish him, so that she felt safe to ride. So she felt she had control.

I will always regret for the rest of my life, teaching you to trust. Bound together as one, as we were, even today I feel your pain and this story is written with tears streaming down my face for the grave injustice that was done to you. And I was the one that did it.

But deep inside there still is a spark of the wild black stallion, because I had to laugh when his owner came running into the barn office for help, because she had a stallion running loose on the show grounds.

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I wish you could always be running free.