Chuy was standing at a diagonal in his stall. No safe way for me to get to his right side unless he moved. I went to his butt and lightly tapped his right haunch while I smooched a little. Head still in bucket, Chuy disengaged his hindquarter and swung to the left.
“Thank you,” I said. “That was very kind of you…” And the grooming continued.
As I brushed and curried and combed his mane, I thought about how different our relationship is these days. Just a little over a year ago, there was no way Chuy would have moved at my request. He was more likely to pin his ears and threaten to kick. Working with him at close quarters was a risky adventure, and not one I wanted to embark on.
I knew how he had gotten to that point. In other columns, I’ve talked about misplacing my trust in a housemate who claimed to know horses, and who proceeded to play dominance games with my two boys. While Travis, my thoroughbred, submitted to this treatment, Chuy took any chance he could to rebel; he chased the housemate from the stable more than once with his threatening behavior (and then paid for it later when the housemate had the upper hand via spur and bit). By the time I got rid of the housemate, I had a potentially dangerous horse on my hands.
After many hours of groundwork and even more hours of just hanging out together, Chuy and I have a strong bond that we are now taking to the saddle. I, a human, call it love. Chuy, a horse, calls it trust…at least that’s what I think. After all, what use does a horse have for love? It’s not a concept that offers any value to herd animal oriented completely toward survival. Trust is far more important—trust that I (the leader) will keep him safe, that he is not in any danger when I’m around.
Trust of a human is not an automatic thing for most horses. Too many people use strong arm tactics to get what they want from a horse—sharper spurs, bigger bit, tie the head down, make contact with a whip. While these tactics may achieve submission, they will not induce trust. Too many years of this treatment creates horses who have lost their spirit, who have retreated so far inside themselves to escape their human contact experiences that there is little hope of ever seeing spark in their eyes again.
Even those of us who don’t believe in strong arm tactics can erode a horse’s trust. Travis, true to his thoroughbred blood, is very sensitive to pressure and can get stressed easily. I’ve figured out that when he sticks his tongue out the side of him mouth and whirls it around, he’s under high stress. I don’t even have to touch him; I can just look at him straight on and push the air in front of me with my hands, and he reacts. If I do it too much, out comes the tongue.
Another sign of Travis’ lack of trust is in halter or bridle. He goes from awake and energetic to dull and listless once he is “bound.” It is so sad to see him just go through the motions with no mental engagement with me. I’m sure that this is the result of people misinterpreting (and valuing) his docility; it is not trust, it is capitulation
How do we gain a horse’s trust? I don’t have all the answers, and I’m not a trainer with lots of experience with different individuals. Here is the answer I have right now: 1) Show them (in their terms) that you will keep them safe, and 2) respect them, which for me means letting them show some personality and spirit without punishing them, and honoring the speed and pressure that they need to be mentally engaged (as opposed to mentally escaping).
I know that Chuy is fully in trust with me today, even after his bad initial experience in my corral. Travis is not all the way there just yet. I am working with him to gain his trust, and frankly am finding him more challenging than Chuy. It’s a learning process for both of us, and we are progressing, even if slowly.
Latest Comments
Companions in the journey!
Posted by Trish Lambert June 26, 2011 13:41:51
gaining trust
Posted by Carolyn L. Krall June 22, 2011 01:55:26
trust article
Posted by karen vanderlaan June 19, 2011 07:19:19