It's Not About The Trailer

1/30/10:

Bringing home Aspire proved to be more challenging than I originally had planned for. I know that when dealing with horses it is unwise to rush things or put a time frame on when a task needs to be accomplished. It creates direct line thinking, that is, too much focus on the end result and not enough focus on the moment-by-moment world the horse is living in… We arrived at our destination after having carefully determined the drive time from Dillon to Darby, loading time with a cushion for unexpected issues, drive time home, and unloading - all before dark. My goal for the afternoon was to remember that trailer loading isn’t about the trailer – it’s about her trusting in me as a leader, and to put the relationship first. This would be her first experience with me in our partnership and a true opportunity for me to prove to her that I care about her confidence and emotions…and not about the trailer.

When we pulled into the driveway with Rosie, our trailer companion for Aspire, the horses on the property began calling and racing around in their pastures. Twenty minutes later, after having signed all the paperwork and handing over a check, we came outside to see the horses still hot and running around. Spy was in a round pen, not as bothered as the other horses, but spirits up none the less. The man who sold her to me grabbed my halter and caught her for me, no big favor there, and was getting ready to load her himself. I stepped in and commented that I wanted to play a bit with her first and see what side of the corral she woke up on that morning. I also wanted to see what kinds of things she already knew and what tools we may or may not have for trailer loading. It turned out we barely had leading, porcupine game* was out of the question because she was so busy moving her feet and focusing elsewhere, driving game sent her backward or flying around in circles (the man was proud to see me “longing” her), but we did have a decent yo-yo…. Leaving me where I could rub her all over and yo-yo her to and from me. Not the best quiver of arrows but that’s what we had to work with. I brought her out of her pen, only to go three feet before hitting her first threshold. We waited there, I rubbed her, yo-yoed her, and walked her back toward the pen than up toward the threshold. She offered a step farther – awesome! We repeated the rubbing, waiting, retreating, advancing, at each limit of her comfort zone until we were finally across the drive at the trailer. Despite of the commotion going on around us with the other horses running and calling she was very good and receptive to the approach and retreat methods in respects of the trailer. Without much delay we had her nose in! Then the neck as she began to sniff around. After that, lots of retreat, some leading exercises, yo-yo, then back to the trailer. Nose in, neck in, and she went to lift a foot in but banged her shin against the step. A large step up, especially for a yearling. She had trouble navigating the step, so my friend lifted her foot and placed it in the trailer for her. She sat with her foot in, sniffed around, looked at Rosie in the front half of the trailer, then took a breath. I backed her away from the trailer and went for a little walk. The next go around we had nose, neck, and then she sat down and gently lifted both front legs into the trailer, effectively in a kneeling position, with her front legs bent and her weight on her knees and shins. She sat there, looking at us, as if to say – how to I get my back end in now? I felt this to be awesome progress and let her stay there as long as she wanted and when she back herself out we went for a long walk back toward her pen, around the drive, rubbing her shoulder the entire way. It was at this point the previous owner marched up, wondering what I was still doing here, she’d been in the trailer a handful of times before, the colt they sold last week just loaded right in, with these young horses you can’t give them time to think you just have to do it, and tried to grab her lead rope from me. For the third time that day I told him I could do it by myself, tried to explain what I was doing, gave up, and said I didn’t mind taking the time to load her. He impatiently began elbowing her in the flank as she was considering how to step in causing her to lurch forward, cow kick at him, then fly backward. I promptly reminded him that she was my horse now and I would appreciate if he left us alone but the damage was already done. He must have got her right when she was on the brink of a change because now she wanted nothing to do with the trailer. She couldn’t hold still, began frantically pawing the ground, and balked and pulled back anytime I tried to lead her toward the door. At this point we’re an hour into our cushion time and coming to a point that if we don’t load her soon we’re either going home without a horse or we’re unloading in the dark. Neither a good option as it was a long, expensive drive to get there and our destination had no exterior lights and she’d be trying to get out of the trailer in the pitch black.

We needed a new plan. I didn’t want to teach her to pull back, nor did I want to destroy all the work we’d done so far. Creating a fight, which was bound to happen, was not what I wanted to do. We decided to back the trailer up to her round pen, put up some panels to make a chute, then allowed her to roam around the pen. We put pressure on her when she looked away from or ran by the opening of the trailer and released at any hint of a thought toward the chute. After ten minutes she was pawing at the trailer and then…jumped in! Wow! I brought her a bucket of water (she sucked down two!) and dropped a little hay for her. We let her think on it for a while, then went in, haltered her, lead her out, and turned her loose in her pen again. She walked half a lap away from the trailer, and we put a touch of pressure in front of her, she turned around, looked at the trailer, and calmly walked inside. Standing there, waiting, looking at us as if to say – is this all you wanted? Can I have some more water now? We left the door open to the trailer while we warmed up the truck, loaded up the dogs, and packed up our stuff. She didn’t offer to come out and looked calm, albeit sweaty, so we closed the door and began our drive back to Dillon.

We got back to Dillon with a half hour of day light left, not bad considering the unexpected delay in loading (totally worth it though because it became her idea!). I went in the trailer, haltered her, and went to lead her out. She stopped to take in her new surroundings, then went to step out… Of course, it wasn’t that easy! She stepped half way out, realized the size of the step, and firmly decided she’d rather just stay in the trailer. After much approach and retreat of the step we decided to put a little pressure behind her to help motivate her exit. As much as I would have loved to wait for her to figure it out on her own, we were dangerously close to zero day light and navigating the feedlot gates and pens in the dark was not on my list of safe things to do with a barely halter started yearling. With a touch of assistance from a butt rope creating a little discomfort behind her in the trailer, she jumped out. Well, somewhat clattered out, but was out, and wasn’t panicking. Rosie unloaded like a champ and we dropped them together into their pens right as it began to go dark. Phew!

So….what did I learn from all this?? It was the most intense test yet of my patience and resourcefulness. It challenged my leadership and made me count all the arrows in my quiver at least twice. It also made me feel somewhat sorry for poor Aspire, that though she’d been loaded at least three times before, she was still that uncomfortable with the idea that she didn't want to load. Obviously the trailer wasn’t a good experience in her past but she was a trooper. It really allowed me to assess her personality and confidence level under stress, and for a horse that doesn’t know how to lead she did wonderful in spite of all the odds stacked against us.

Some notes on Spy; she’s curious but not confident enough to show that very often. She paws when under pressure and balks when her limits have been pushed too far. She’s perceptive, skeptical, and aware. She retreats often (and away from people) when unconfident but doesn’t go fully right brain and/or lose her mind. She needs to move her feet a lot when her emotions are raised, but only needs to move her feet at a steady walk. I believe she has the ability to put up a good fight if she feels she’s being treated unfairly or she’s scared/unconfident. Her energy level goes up easily but comes down with relative ease.


*see www.Parelli.com for details on terms & concepts