A Dream for Horses

I am 39 years old and I am blessed with what society calls learning disabilities. I have ADD/ADHD, Dyslexia and Dysgraphia. I say that it is a blessing because unlike the regulated school system I have come to realize that just because I do not learn the way that the school system expects me to does not mean that I am defective. Let me assure you that it is a daily challenge to remind myself of this. I was diagnosed with Dyslexia and Dysgraphia when I was in 1st grade. The only reason that I was not diagnosed with the ADD/ADHD at the time was because in 1975 the doctors felt that only boys could have ADD/ADHD. I share the blessing of learning differently with Albert Einstein, my hero Thomas Edison, Henry Winkler “the Fonz” and many other incredible people to help remind me that I am not worthless.

The main thing that helped me through school, life, etc was my horses. When my older sister started taking riding lessons I came into contact with my first horse at age 8 and I knew that I was where I belonged. When my parents got me my first quarter horse at age 12 I had a best friend who would not judge me and accepted me for exactly who I was. It was unfortunate that the Ferrier who sold the horse to my mother who was scared of horses sold her a horse with navicular that would not show up on x-rays and within less than a week my new horse was lame and I could not ride him. Chino was a good friend but he had a broken spirit. My mother never had to worry about me with him because he never did anything “frisky” or “playful”. My sister had a horse that loved to run and play in the field. He had been a show horse who lived in a stall all of his life. Shad was a beautiful palomino quarter horse who took championships in English hunter jumper at Cow Palace in California. When he moved to Colorado with us and began to live in a pasture he was a very happy and active horse. The only time my horse Chino showed animation was if we tried to separate the two horses. Chino had been a cow horse before we got him and you could see in his sad dead eye that he had been broken somehow. He was not scared of me or anyone else only resigned to his place in life. I vowed that there had to be a better way to treat horses.

A friend of ours had an Arabian breading farm down the road when we lived in Georgia and she did not have a trainer. She was a pilot and was not home as much as she would like to be. She needed someone to work with her foals and young horses. I had been helping my mom train llamas at the farms where she was a llama manager. I would also go with her to as many of the horse seminars as I was able to. There was very little information on llamas in those days so my mom would go to the horse seminars to learn about horse breading and management.

I would work with the Arabian foals and start the young horses that she had by spending time with them and letting them take there time to accept the blankets, saddles, bridles, my weight laying across his saddle etc until the horses seemed comfortable with the idea.

I ran into two horses on her farm that were beyond my 15 year old self taught abilities. One was a young Arabian named scooter who was fine with all stages until I mounted him in the round pen that Joy insisted I use for my own safety. As soon as I got on his back he would lay down and refuse to get up. He would stay there until I took off the tack and was good and ready to get up. I asked people for advice and was told to poor water down his nose, shock him with a cattle prod, run at him and scare him into getting up and taking a crop to him. I could not stomach any of these options and so I had to leave scooter until I could her more information.

My other difficult case was a wild mustang who was not going to trust me and let me catch her no matter how much I tried to coax her. Again, I was a totally self trained kid at this point. Mostly I had trained lots of llamas and a few alpacas. I felt that I needed to give her space as I was not going to force her. She was so much smaller than my quarter horses or even the Arabians. By the way, my advice is not to try and corner a wild mustang in a round pen. She was an incredibly smart and gentle horse and I was a totally fearless teenager. When I got to close and she felt I needed to be out of her space she would brush past me and nock me out of the way with her shoulder. I know now that I could have gotten so hurt had she wanted to hurt me. This experience taught me that horses really do not want to step on us. She could have gone right over the top of me. When you catch a llama, they have personalities more like cats than dogs, you get them in a corner to catch them. This beautiful little Mustang could have gone right over the top of me and stepped on me but she only brushed me aside.

Before I could do more research my mom got a job at a llama farm in Louisiana so I was never able to work out how to work with the two above horses. I did have many other successes on Joy’s farm however.

My next horse was an Arabian that the trainer at the Arabian farm where my Mom managed llamas discovered a bank had foreclosed on another farm that used the animals as collateral and was going to sell them for slaughter. Bonnie, the trainer, convinced the Bank to let her find buyers as long as she was able to get the same amount that the slaughter house would pay. So I was able to pick up a registered Arabian filly for $100. We thought she was a 5 year old named Putin on the Ritz that had been started under saddle. The bank only had photo copies of the papers and not the originals so I had to send in a copy of the freeze brand to find out for certain. It took a month or so to bring her back up to weight and after being starved by the farm owners and the bank. I spent the time grooming her and building a relationship. I proceeded to use driving reigns on her through the stirrups of my English saddle and worked her for several more weeks. When I finally felt she was fit enough to be ridden I climbed on and rode her for short periods almost every day. She was an angel and never gave me a problem. She followed every queue that I gave her. I admit that I did not ask her for difficult moves as I was only expecting her to be started green. A few weeks after I started riding Ritzy I received word back from the Arabian registry that she was not Putin on the Ritz but was in fact the 4 year old AH Raneka. When Bonnie and I went over the records and she spoke to the trainer who used to work at the farm it turned out that the filly that I had brought home had never been started. This told me that though I was mostly self taught I was right in my belief that if I took my time and listened to the horse, going at the horses pace I did not have to frighten the horse. It was helpful to have access to such a wonderful trainer. Bonnie’s personal horse was a Quarter horse that she used with the Special Olympics. The fact that Bonnie had a horse that was used for the special Olympics gave me a new insight into a use for horses. I was not the only one who benefits from the healing of horses but horses are used to help people with physical disabilities.

When I was older and Ritzy had gone on to be a cross country event horse I was working with yet another counselor who prescribed horse back ridding for ADD/ADHD, Dyslexia, and Dysgraphia. It turns out that they have discovered there is a coloration between the movement of a horse that helps center people with left brain/right brain differences which gives you the ADD/ADHD, Dyslexia, Dysgraphia, Dyscalcula, Autism, etc.

I have been horseless personally for 9 years and it has been a very difficult 9 years. I worked for a trainer for a while until I discovered that the trainer was drugging the horses to get the performance desired. I knew this was not what I wanted to learn.

When I came across Monty’s web site a month or so ago I was ecstatic as I felt like I finally found someone who understood what I was trying to say and do. I have been dreaming of teaching horses in a gentle way so that they can be therapy animals for others who need a friend who is going to be there for them. A horse will give a “Kid at Risk” a sense of confidence and accomplishment that is real and he can trust. A Horse will not tell you “you are doing a good job” if you are not. Unlike a dog a horse will also teach a “Kid at Risk” respect. If you do not respect a horse you will get hurt. It is something I used to do as a kid. I was very confident with horses but not with boys. If I was having a hard time with a guy I liked I would take him riding. The guy would learn a new respect for himself, the horse and me very quickly. They take one look up close at the big animal and they get an idea of how small they are. That is why horses still work so well for crowd control. Then you take this person who looks at this BIG animal and show them that with kindness and very small queues the horse will follow what they want and they have a new respect for themselves, as they should.

I have signed up to get my training certification with the North American Riding for the Handicapped Association (NARHA) so that I can learn what the horses need to learn so that they are ready to help the people who need them. I have found a Equine Rescue farm that rescues nurse mare foals so I can work with horses and find out about running a not for profit. I have started on my plan to help make the world a better place for Horses and Humans. It is a slow path as I have no money and the trainer where I get to work with horses does not agree with or maybe he does not know about the Monty Roberts way. It makes me twitch every time I see the stud chain come out. I know it is not needed. I am so grateful for the Equus Online so that I can train the horses I get to work with better and learn the language of Equus.

After training so many llamas I know that I do not have to use a bit to train a horse to be a cart horse or use blinders. I have trained llamas to cart both singly and in pairs. Llamas do not use anything more than a halter when you drive and maybe a modified side pull halter that puts pressure underneath the jaw instead of on top of the nose as the bridge of the nose bone is so short. If a llama can do it a horse can. No matter what anyone tells me my horses are just as smart as the llamas. They are both flight animals after all. The llama may not be as skittish as the horse, but they are still both flight animals.

I know this post was long. This plan has been a dream of mine a life time in the making. I have always wanted to work and be with horses. It has only been in the last 2 years that God has given me the confidence to go after the goal that I have longed for my whole life. A dream to help horses be trained without fear and help people with differences who would be helped by a relationship with horses if they can afford one or not.

I have fallen in love-- Again

I have met a girl and fallen in love. She is feisty as all red heads are and she is smart as well as sweet. She is the mother of a wonderful boy who no longer lives with her. She has lived a most interesting life already and she is only five years old.

Her name is Clyde and she is a Horse. She is half Clydesdale and Half Quarter Horse. I met her at a farm where they rescue nurse mare foals. You may wonder what a nurse mare foal is so I will tell you. A nurse mare is a mare that is used to nurse a foal not her own. Usually an expensive race horse or show horse prospect whose mother either does not have enough milk or whom they do not want to burden with feeding a foal. They would prefer to get the valuable mare back in top condition and re-bread her right away and have her use all of her energy on growing the new baby instead of sharing it with making milk for a baby at her side.

So what happens with the foal that the nurse mare gave birth to so she would have the milk to feed her new charge? Unfortunately, they are often sent to slaughter or sold to people who have no idea what they are doing with a horse. This is where Eagle Hill Equine Rescue in Fredricksbug, VA comes in. They rescue the foals that they can, raise them and adopt them to screened homes where they keep track of the horses to make sure they are cared for properly. That is where I met Clyde.

Clyde looks like an overgrown step pony to me.

Clyde is new to working with people and she has become one of my pet projects. Please join me as I work with Clyde and teach her that humans are loads of fun and we can do great things together away from her other heard, people being her new heard.

The Lord is my Shepherd

The Lord is my Shepherd.

My next vivid recollection is when I was back in Colorado. My sister and I both had a horse. My horse was buckskin named Chino and my sister’s horse was a palomino we called Shad.

Chino had grown up in Colorado with other horses in a pasture all of his life. Shad on the other hand was a show horse, born and bread in California, kept in a stall of his very own and pampered by many.

When we moved to Colorado and Mom’s new carrier included a house with a large pasture, it seemed silly to board the horses’ hours away when we could have them practically right outside the front door.

The house and the pasture was all on the side of a Mountain, I mean that literally, the only real flat spots were where the buildings and parking lot was. To get to the horses from the yard was a very steep slope. There was a set of wooden steps from the yard to the top of the retaining wall with a garden gate to enter the top of the pasture. Then there was a set of steps poured out of concrete from the top of the retaining wall to the foot of the retaining wall, which put us on the same footing as the horses.

This worked out well for me as a 13 year old girl as I was able to go out and see my horse at any time night or day that I felt the need to see my best friend. I also walked through the pasture to get to and from the school bus.

One winter the snow came much heavier than usual. We even helped provide hay to the people who flew it up by helicopter to feed the dear and elk to help to keep them from starving.

One night we herd strange noises outside. It was very late and it was windy and cold. We went outside to discover that Shad had walked up the stairs out of the pasture and was in the front yard. The noise we heard was Chino calling him.

The wooden steps that Shad had walked up were old and had many holes in them. The fact that he had walked up the stairs without catching a hoof and breaking a leg was a miracle. With how steep the slope from the yard to the retaining wall and the wire over the retaining wall and the 4+ foot drop from the top of the retaining wall, combined with how a horse is designed, we could not go down that was. A horse is heavier in the hindquarters than in the front quarters. It is easier for then to scramble up a hill than go down one. In the same way a human cannot go down stairs head first on all fours, trust me I tried and spent the time in the hospital to prove it. If the wire had not run across the top of the retaining wall, and if it had not been the middle of the night so Shad could see what he was doing, and if the only path down not over the horses knees in snow wasn't the stairs. I suppose it is possible that Shad could have gotten himself down on his own.

As we all loved Shad as a member of the family it was not even an option that we would allow him the chance to hurt himself trying to get back to his friend. We went in many directions to catch Shad, to make sure Chino would not try to follow, to see what our options were.

We discovered that Chino was not even contemplating going up the stairs. Perhaps because he had been in a pasture with other horses his whole life he knew that it was not possible, that a horse does not go up stairs.

We found that we had no way to get Shad back into the pasture that night. We caught Shad who was acting so very proud of himself, as he did when he “got away with something”. We threw a little extra hay to Chino to keep him occupied and finally decided to put Shad in the trailer for the night to keep him out of trouble and gave him some hay to eat until Dad could plow out the gate in the morning so we could Shad back in the pasture.

What does this teach me about God?


We are humans, we give so much, and so deeply for these animals, who provide nothing to the family fortune. They do no work and make no profit. The cost the family a great deal, the cheapest thing about a horse is buying one. Yet we gladly give our hearts, our time and our money for them. I spent many a night by the side of my horse, spent my last dollar to by a new halter and the majority of the items I have purchased at gem shows were to adorn my horse. Why do I do this? For love. I would and have gone into dangerous situations to help a horse. I have run into traffic to save a horse I have never seen before. What do I expect to get out of it? Nothing.

Again I tell you that I am only human, far from perfect, with so many faults I could not count them on 100 peoples hands, and if I am able to love not only my horses, my herds, without looking to what they make for me. Not based on how they perform for me, or how hard they work or how much they produce. How much more do you suppose the one who is perfect, who is God, loves his flock, loves me, loves you, just because of who you are, not on how you perform or how much you produce, or even if you through him off now and then. He is PERFECT; do you know what that means?

When Chino would not come to me when I wanted him, it would make me crazy, especially if it was to get his hooves shod or to see the Vet. I knew that it was for his own good and was in his best interest, Chino did not care, and he had other plans and would come only in his own time.

We are like that stubborn horse with God. He calls us and wants to take care of us. However, where I would get mad or impatient and try to trick Chino, God has perfect patience, He does not get mad or vengeful, and He does not try to trick us or undermine us. He will use what openings that we give Him to show us that He is waiting for us and that He loves us and wants to help us. He will take any little opening we give Him to soothe us and remind us He is patiently waiting for us to choose to come to Him.

Our lives are a learning experience. I am beginning to see that what I have been learning is how it is that God loves. For every time I go back and look at my past and see the love I have, I was given, that I saw someone give to someone else or that love that I share I see God and begin to see the lesson on how he loves us.

When I look back at the times of pain and sadness I look for God and in the cases where someone brought me pain it becomes easier for me to see the pain in the person and see God with me as he loves me through the moment. These are harder lessons, though not as hard as the ones where I am angry especially where I think I am angry with others.

I begin to find that my anger with others has little to do with others and more to do with me. As I really look at the anger issues, what am I angry about, what am I accusing the person of, what has set me off. I begin to find the issues are my own, I am accusing the person of my own faults, what has set me off is my own feelings. When I really dig down into the anger what I find at the core of it? Pain, fear, a scared and lonely child, but the Lord is my Shepherd, he leads me through these dark places, and I am never alone. Only He can restore my soul and lead me beside the still waters.

The boundaries that he sets for me are gossamer thin and it is hard for me to see them still. I believe that they will become more substantial as I become more attuned to his still small voice. I long for those boundaries to guide me and keep me safe. I want to reach the house with lights on and the people inside, however, I do not need the adventure of testing the fences each day looking for one to give way, just to see if God will still be waiting for my return. I know He will always be waiting for me. He will always be by my side ready to carry me home.

What can you learn from the lessons of your past? What has God been trying to teach you?

The Lord is Your Shepherd.

The Lord is My Sheppard

What a simple phrase, we have all heard it at one point or another. The Lord is my Sheppard. It has been going through my mind for days. Sometimes I go as far as The Lord is my Sheppard I shall not want, however, usually I stop with The Lord is my Sheppard.

Such a simple phrase, so short, so seemingly out of date. Maybe it is because I have have been in charge of so many animals in my life that it begins to draws a poignant parallel to me.

Each time the phrase comes to my mind I think of another time in my past where I was taking care of animals in my childhood. .

It started with when I was staying on the goat farm one summer with my aunt and uncle. I loved to help the little girl who lived there and was in charge of the goats.

The goats would get out of the fences almost daily. They were intelligent animals and always seemed to be getting into trouble. If there was a single spot in the fence that was week or broken they would find the breach or weakness and extract themselves to roam into the areas beyond the pastures we had put them. Laura was patient and always of a kind spirit. She did not get mad at the creatures, she did not blame them or accuse them of trying to make her work harder. The escape was not something that they did to her but just part of the goats nature.

It was an adventure to seek them out and figure out how they got out this time. If blame was to be placed the blame was on the fact that the family did not have the money to be able to provide to materials to replace all of the fencing to the quality to secure the goats properly. She new her limits as well as the nature of her charges. It would do no good to blame the creatures or try to make them be other than who and what they were. At the same time to get fed up with them and wait for them to come home on there own, as chances are they would as they would wish to be feed and want to be milked as there udders would become uncomfortable, would be taking a risk and do them a disservice.

What if we left them to roam on their own and they got onto the road and got into the way of a vehicle and was hurt, killed or hurt or killed a human? What if a predator(s) found them and pulled one or more of them down. Not only would we loose a source of income for her and her family but also a creature that she loved and cared for. Each one of her goats was named, with it's own personality and place in the heard and in her heart. To loose even one would be a blow to her heart even more than to her families finances.

What does this recollection show me?

It takes me back to what we did. When we found a breach in a fence we would  fix it first with all our young 12 year old capabilities so that the rest of the heard could not escape. At that point we did not have to worry so for the creatures that were now safe and we could focus on the creatures that were loose and running wild. With joy and, yes some frustration, we would begin to coax, cajole, herd, and slowly move the roaming  inmates towards home. They would try and make a few feints towards other outcrops, to test our resolve to take them home. It would seem that once they had tested us and new that we were in earnest to take them home they would resign themselves to comply and would go home meekly until the next outbreak could be planned.

When we put the recalcitrant critters back with there brethren the young ones would kick up there heals and play with there fellow kids and the older nannies would act as nothing had happened and would return to grazing.

We were just happy to have the entire herd back together and safe in one place. Now we could go about our own games as 12 year old girls do.

I married a marsupial

I am sure you are familiar with the hoodies that people wear with the pouch in the front. Not the kind that zip up the front but the ones that you pull over your head. Well, my husband lives in them. He has about 5 of them that I can sort of get him to rotate through. Everything gets stored in his pouch. His phone, his pocket knife, his keys, etc. It saves the pockets of his jeans from getting so many holes I guess. Everyone has there own little eccentricities, one of Mikes is the fact that he is a cute and cuddly marsupial. :)