Monday Driving

This second day of horse investigation took place in a covered arena with Sugar.   As soon as we got inside it began to hail and the sound was all-encompassing and matched the excitement I felt at another chance to enter big beast world.  Sugar had a halter on and again I was handed the rope.  Today we were to make the distinction between leading a horse and driving a horse.  I led Sugar around the arena one or two times with great indifference on her part.  Karen explained that Sugar had been a wild mustang when captured young.  Sugar obviously had some history prior to becoming a part of Karen's herd because she had a way of checking out, zoning out, looking for something, anything different than dealing with a human's request.

Karen kept repeating that I had to look for the horse's attention.  She said I had to keep that attention.  We talked flexion points, where a horse gives in, gives a signal of attention or surrender to you. First up is right behind the ears, a too subtle move for me to detect, the next at the neck.  Here even I could detect whether the horse was giving me its attention, the animal does a ninety degree bend, quite obvious.  Then at the ribs and the hips.  We even worked with Sugar to give a little bit of release of her neck down toward the ground.  You hold constant pressure behind the ears on the mane and wait it out. Sugar might give you a three on a scale of ten - ten being head down to the grass level.  I needed to acknowledge even a one with this particular horse because she rarely gave herself away easily. I really could not distinguish Sugar's release or acquiescence, these minute signs that Karen can see. The subtlest shift might say she is ready to do your bidding but don't miss the signal or she might retrench.  I just don't know where or how to look.  

I had learned the day before a bit of Sugar's reticence to play along when I had been cut off near a fence.  I had tried to stride past her and all I had done was walk into her face. She held her ground, even while I flapped my arms.   I learned that a horse can't really see you to read you if you are too close.  Today I would learn to keep my distance in order to be 'heard'.  I still at this point kept trying to coax cooperation with soothing baby words, or doggy excitement words, or rational careful diction.  'Get a new playbook' was the lesson I learned instead.  While leading Sugar the only thing that worked was to be large, tall, quite elbowy even.  I could not observe from afar, I had to be in it completely as a strong presence.

One assignment sounded simple.  Walk around to the other side of the horse.  Here Sugar blocked me repeatedly.  I walked into her nose, we did feints left and right, she would not yield to her right side.  She would yield for Karen.  I asked if it were kosher to duck under the neck, and Karen said no.  It took me about fifteen minutes to get to the other side, I inched along, missing all the cues that Karen saw.  I rushed my request, I failed to request,  I gave up too soon, or I gave the wrong rope command.  My head was spinning with the not seeing it.  Finally Sugar allowed me around for about a minute before she circled me and once again I stood on her left.  Oh well.

Driving a horse is a different animal.  Here you play out a rope and let the animal lead, remaining as the pivot in the middle of a circle.  I noticed Karen swinging the long end of the rope and playing out the nose end getting distance and a fast clip.  It took me quite a while to do more than contain the front end of this horse racing away and around me, her butt end remaining quite close and her front end getting away from me, if that makes any sense.  The horse's peripheral vision is very much capable of seeing your more distant hand signaling with a circling motion.  I discovered that a twirling rope would move the rear end away.  It became a lot less tense.

I was just getting the hang of it when Karen changed the game and had me stop and pivot the horse's nose around my stationary self so that we could then drive in the other direction.  This was an exciting new dance step and once Sugar did the maneuver three times, we called it a day.  I walked home in the cold rain, over corral fences and through neighboring woods, delighted in the newness and freshness of this day and this horse world.