Do you know what happens to a dog at the pound that has food agression issues? Very rarely are these dogs given a second chance at life. Who wants to take the chance that a dog will turn on them, a child, or another pet over food? Most times, dogs like this are put down. They aren't taught because there are shelters full of non-food-agressive dogs just waiting for homes.
Now let's talk about horses. Who wants to take the chance that a horse, 1000lbs of teeth and hooves and muscle, will turn on someone because of food? I can't tell you how many times I have gotten horses in here for training that have had agression when it comes to their grain. Not just towards other horses, because to be honest, that is to be expected. No, these horses are agressive with people.
I recently got in a very large, very stubborn, and very spirited black gelding. He came with a warning. "Don't try to go into his pen with grain unless he is tied up. He will hurt you when it comes to food."
Honestly, every time I hear something like this, it just blows me away. Why in the world would you have an animal that you would allow to behave this way? Not to mention that if something were to happen to you he would more than likely be sold. What would happen when these new people, completely unaware of the problem, try to feed him and wind up in the hospital or worse?
We, as people, have a responsibility to the animals that we keep. It is our responsibility to teach them to be cooperative and functioning partners. I'm not talking about riding ( not yet anyways, lol) but simply saying that it is our duty to teach, to educate, animals on manners, basic ways of functioning in a safe and respectful manner.
I took the gelding home and put him in the round pen. The next day I went out, haltered him, and began to lead him. He was pushy and defiant on the lead, wanting to alternately drag me around or sulk behind me. I worked for awhile on keeping him at my shoulder. If you lead a horse while walking in front of him you could get trampled if that horse spooks. I was taught, and I believe, that the correct way to lead a horse is with his head at your shoulder, your hand under his chin on the lead, with your other hand holding the slack of the rope.
When he would try to push past me I would use my elbow of the arm that held the lead under his chin to push backwards on his chest. When he didn't get it and continued to push, I pulled him to a halt and then backed him several feet. Then we started again. Soon he was not trying to push past me, but instead, pouting and dragging his feet, wanting to walk behind me. I used the hand that was holding the slack to swing the end of the lead behind my, towards his hindquarters. I didn't do this hard, in a way to hit or scare him, but in an encouraging way, clicking my tongue and telling him to walk.
Soon he was leading at my shoulder. We spent a minute grooming and petting and then it was time for his grain. I went in the barn to get it and when I came out he was pacing in front of the gate, having heard the patter of grain dropping into his bucket. I set the bucket down and unlocked the gate. He immediately tried to push through. I backed him up and turned for the gate to reach through and get the bucket. He charged forward. I whirled and threw up my hand. "Back! Back!" I said, in a loud, firm voice.
He was startled. He backed to get away from the crazy yelling lady. But he still wanted that grain....so after a few steps back he charged forward with his ears laid back and his head cranked at a cocky level. This time I went forward to him and grabbed his halter beneath his chin. I backed him up, both very loudly and very quickly. I returned to the gate. He approached again, a little more cautious but with the same intent. He wanted that grain and he was willing to push me around to get it.
Remember that the grain was still outside of the gate at this point. I would not get the grain until he was standing, quietly, outside of my space. So, when he approached again I backed him again. And again. And, yet again.
I backed this horse a total of 11 times before I could bring the bucket into the round pen. As soon as I did, he charged forward. Out went the bucket and he backed up again. We did this 3 times. Finally I was able to bring the bucket in and set it down and take a step back, calling him forward as I am stepping backwards, giving him the "okay" to come and get it.
The next night I backed him 4 times. The following evening I backed him once. We haven't had a problem since. He finally understood that no matter how big of a fit he threw, he was not getting that grain until he was out of my space.
Once I taught him the Stand command, I parked him in the pen and brought the grain in and set the bucket down and turned and walked out of the pen before I released him from that command. He waited, somewhat impatiently :) for me to release him from the Stand.
Folks, this is only an example of how to correct the problem. Every horse is different. What works on one may not work with another. Ignoring the issue and allowing your horse to become or continue to be food aggressive is begging for an accident. Take the time to figure out what is going to work for you and your horse and then make it happen!
None of my horses are angels, they all have their quirks. However, none - and I mean NONE- of them display agressive behaviors around people. We have carefully taught each one what is expected from them when they are with us. You can't blame a horse that hasn't been taught the right way to behave.
Now, if only I could teach them to clean their own stalls....
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Red Caddilac
I eyed the fat red gelding, who was rolling his eyes and snorting, with some apprehension. "You say he's broke?" I asked his owner, the sweetest woman in the world. She is nearly 80 and has several horses, although being respectful of the diminished healing capacities of her body, she no longer forks the ones that snorts and rolls their eyes. That's where I come in.
She nodded. "He's broke, it's just been awhile."
The gelding was 15 1/2 hands of well-fed power, easily weighing in at 1200 lbs. A Tennessee Walking Horse, he stood with his hind end stretched out slightly while I curried and tacked him up. He had been a rescue of hers, having come from a sale where he was most likely doomed for the packers (that's what we call slaughter-buyers around here). She called him Red. The lady who had owned him said that he was broke but high strung. I was skeptical.
I had brought my own gear to ride in (I love my saddle!) and so once he was tacked up, I led him out onto the dirt road in front of her house and asked him to lunge a little. He did the typical "YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?!?!?" jump to the side a few times, but he quickly got the idea that I wanted him to move around me in a circle. I helped him see this by keeping my left arm, the one that was holding the lead, stiff to the front while I walked toward his hind end, clicking my tongue to ask him to move. I have found that if you apply pressure, even if its only your voice and presence, to the hind end, they will usually seek to escape that pressure by moving away. When they do, I take a step back and reward them by letting off with the "pressure". Anytime they deviate from the circle, I move back in.
Within just a few minutes he was trotting nicely in a circle around me. I only wanted to trot him enough to give the saddle a chance to loosen so that I could tighten the cinch once more before getting on and to allow him a chance to warm up a little. It also gave the both of us an opportunity to see how the other worked. He learned in short order that I wasn't going to allow him to misbehave and I learned that, while he tested me, he had a general want to please me.
I tightened the cinch and my husband held the reins while I stepped up. The horse felt like a time bomb beneath me, I could feel him fairly vibrating with energy and nervousness. He didn't want to stand still, and now was not the time to argue, not when it had been years since he had been ridden like I was going to ride him today. I pick my battles.
I asked him to move out, away from the farm, heading south on this old dirt road. His nervousness increased as we drew away from the house and the other horses, all of whom were voicing their displeasure at his departure quite loudly. He whirled a few times, wanting to go home to his nice little paddock with his buddies. I simply made him follow through with the turn until we were once again headed in the right direction.
It was about that time I realized that the saddle was sitting funny. I wiggled and he jigged to the side. Perhaps not the smartest idea to try and adjust things while on this horse then. I asked him for a stop, which he gave easily, and then turned him for home, holding him in the whole way as his head was held high and he strutted as quickly as possible. Dustin walked out to meet me and immediately saw the problem. I stepped down and adjusted everything while he held Red, who's slight obesity had made the saddle shift.
I'm not going to lie, I was a little nervous. I wanted my equipment to be on right. You know...just in case.
Mounted once more, we again went south, this time into a ploughed field. I figured that the deeper footing would take some of the starch out of him as well as provide a better landing spot for me if I should happen to come off. Which I had no intention of doing, but you know what they say about good intentions.
The gelding was very responsive, although very rusty. I would give him a little pressure with my heel and he would start to react, hesitate, and then once I cued him again, he would complete the maneuver. Someone had trained him well and he was smart enough to remember most of it, even if he was a little slow on the pick up.
We went about a half a mile and then we started to play. I asked him for figure eights, lead changes, stops, backs, trot, canter, and a gaited walk. He did it all. The more we did the quicker and more responsive he got. Sure, he still tried to go back to the house occasionally, but for the most part he did as I asked.
Since he was mostly fat and little muscle, it didn't take long to have him sweating. I knew that if I pushed him too hard, he would be sore the next day. Horses are just like people in that regard; I know that if I spent the day digging holes or something that I was unaccustomed to that I would be sore, for sure! I let him out into his gaited walk on the way back to the house, stopping and turning around and going the opposite way several times. I wanted to test him, to see how he would respond to being asked to go away from the house once we were on our way back. He did it every time with no complaint.
I reached the drive grinning from ear to ear. Martha was smiling too, she had been watching from afar. "How'd he do?" She asked me.
"Well," I said as I scratched and patted his sweaty neck, "you have your Fords, and you have your Chevy's, and they are both nicely made cars. But then you have your Cadillac's. He's a Caddy."
She laughed and patted him. She has a good eye for horses. I told her I thought he would eat trails for breakfast and that he would go all day for a good rider. She nodded, like it was what she had expected all along.
Now that Red is healthy and we know a little about what he can do, Martha is going to put him up for sale to a good home so that she has the space and time to rescue another horse.
I personally wish I had the time and space for another one. Riding him was a blast. There is something special about a Tennessee Walker.
She nodded. "He's broke, it's just been awhile."
The gelding was 15 1/2 hands of well-fed power, easily weighing in at 1200 lbs. A Tennessee Walking Horse, he stood with his hind end stretched out slightly while I curried and tacked him up. He had been a rescue of hers, having come from a sale where he was most likely doomed for the packers (that's what we call slaughter-buyers around here). She called him Red. The lady who had owned him said that he was broke but high strung. I was skeptical.
I had brought my own gear to ride in (I love my saddle!) and so once he was tacked up, I led him out onto the dirt road in front of her house and asked him to lunge a little. He did the typical "YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?!?!?" jump to the side a few times, but he quickly got the idea that I wanted him to move around me in a circle. I helped him see this by keeping my left arm, the one that was holding the lead, stiff to the front while I walked toward his hind end, clicking my tongue to ask him to move. I have found that if you apply pressure, even if its only your voice and presence, to the hind end, they will usually seek to escape that pressure by moving away. When they do, I take a step back and reward them by letting off with the "pressure". Anytime they deviate from the circle, I move back in.
Within just a few minutes he was trotting nicely in a circle around me. I only wanted to trot him enough to give the saddle a chance to loosen so that I could tighten the cinch once more before getting on and to allow him a chance to warm up a little. It also gave the both of us an opportunity to see how the other worked. He learned in short order that I wasn't going to allow him to misbehave and I learned that, while he tested me, he had a general want to please me.
I tightened the cinch and my husband held the reins while I stepped up. The horse felt like a time bomb beneath me, I could feel him fairly vibrating with energy and nervousness. He didn't want to stand still, and now was not the time to argue, not when it had been years since he had been ridden like I was going to ride him today. I pick my battles.
I asked him to move out, away from the farm, heading south on this old dirt road. His nervousness increased as we drew away from the house and the other horses, all of whom were voicing their displeasure at his departure quite loudly. He whirled a few times, wanting to go home to his nice little paddock with his buddies. I simply made him follow through with the turn until we were once again headed in the right direction.
It was about that time I realized that the saddle was sitting funny. I wiggled and he jigged to the side. Perhaps not the smartest idea to try and adjust things while on this horse then. I asked him for a stop, which he gave easily, and then turned him for home, holding him in the whole way as his head was held high and he strutted as quickly as possible. Dustin walked out to meet me and immediately saw the problem. I stepped down and adjusted everything while he held Red, who's slight obesity had made the saddle shift.
I'm not going to lie, I was a little nervous. I wanted my equipment to be on right. You know...just in case.
Mounted once more, we again went south, this time into a ploughed field. I figured that the deeper footing would take some of the starch out of him as well as provide a better landing spot for me if I should happen to come off. Which I had no intention of doing, but you know what they say about good intentions.
The gelding was very responsive, although very rusty. I would give him a little pressure with my heel and he would start to react, hesitate, and then once I cued him again, he would complete the maneuver. Someone had trained him well and he was smart enough to remember most of it, even if he was a little slow on the pick up.
We went about a half a mile and then we started to play. I asked him for figure eights, lead changes, stops, backs, trot, canter, and a gaited walk. He did it all. The more we did the quicker and more responsive he got. Sure, he still tried to go back to the house occasionally, but for the most part he did as I asked.
Since he was mostly fat and little muscle, it didn't take long to have him sweating. I knew that if I pushed him too hard, he would be sore the next day. Horses are just like people in that regard; I know that if I spent the day digging holes or something that I was unaccustomed to that I would be sore, for sure! I let him out into his gaited walk on the way back to the house, stopping and turning around and going the opposite way several times. I wanted to test him, to see how he would respond to being asked to go away from the house once we were on our way back. He did it every time with no complaint.
I reached the drive grinning from ear to ear. Martha was smiling too, she had been watching from afar. "How'd he do?" She asked me.
"Well," I said as I scratched and patted his sweaty neck, "you have your Fords, and you have your Chevy's, and they are both nicely made cars. But then you have your Cadillac's. He's a Caddy."
She laughed and patted him. She has a good eye for horses. I told her I thought he would eat trails for breakfast and that he would go all day for a good rider. She nodded, like it was what she had expected all along.
Now that Red is healthy and we know a little about what he can do, Martha is going to put him up for sale to a good home so that she has the space and time to rescue another horse.
I personally wish I had the time and space for another one. Riding him was a blast. There is something special about a Tennessee Walker.
I'm Back!
Okay, so....yeah. It's been awhile. I am guilty of putting this to the back burner and then forgetting about it. When I started this blog, I had a clear-cut idea of what I wanted from it. I wanted it to give to other people, to promote the things that I am passionate about, and to entertain along the way. I kind of forgot how good it feels to sit and share. I am going to really try this time to stick with it. I want to make one post a week, at the least.
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