In the next few essays, I’ll try to relate how I approach the task of starting a horse under saddle. I have a four year old black bay colt, named Janus (pronounced Jay-nus), that to no fault of his own has enjoyed a few years of “just being a horse.” I have fooled with him some and he has learned his manners. However, I have not made an attempt to start him. In part, I suppose because he is a really nice colt, I’ve been holding out on his training to a time when I could savor it. In part, because there isn’t much point in starting before a horse is 3 or 4. When I was training horses for other folks there was pressure, sometimes subtle, many times not so subtle, to get a horse going a little young or push them too fast. Now that I breed my own horses, I can focus on my own approach and what is best for that horse.

For the first day, I really just wanted to introduce myself and ask Janus to be there with me. I suppose you could call this the handshake. It could be easy to forget that this is a two way process. What I want. What he wants. Tom Dorrance pointed out that a horse has a right to that. Horses know what is fair, even if they don’t know what it is, this thing you have designed for them. I want to extend an invitation to him, but like a handshake, I want him to offer one back. Too many people go straight in, and grab for it, a horse in that situation only has a couple of choices. A few accept it, most run. For too many, that is the beginning and the end of the round pen. Some horses offer a handshake and their owners blow right by it.

Once in the round pen, I just let him mill around for a few minutes. Janus is an easy colt. Having raised him here, we already know each other well. But I just want to see. Give him a chance to show me what he wants. He seemed more concerned with food than with his buddies nearby. I scratched him a little, which he accepted before he wandered off.

So we begin, by introducing impulsion. I use a flag, minimally. Just enough to get a walk, then move out a little more. I’ve been curious to see how he moves out. I started his dam, many years ago. Sage was a horse of impulsion. She wanted to go, she liked to go. With her, I worked on controlling that energy. Focusing it. Sage’s first born, Asa, was similar, he liked to go, it didn’t take much to bring up the life in him. Asa was a little different though, maybe because he was a gelding, but he just didn’t have the drive to continue going. Sage had no bottom, forget the illusion of wearing a horse down; she taught me that falsehood well. Janus doesn’t have that same level of impulsion, he has more whoa than go. I am fascinated. How wonderful to see diversity in that family tree!

As we work in the round pen, I asked him to vary his speed, to stop and turn towards me. Its rare that I ask a horse to go around the round pen more than twice before asking for something else. The round pen has nothing to do with wearing a horse down, it has to do with focus. Asking for that handshake. Helping him understand how to offer a handshake. It doesn’t take more than a couple of minutes and he has stopped looking over the rail as he goes around. As soon as I have an ear and an eye, I encourage him to square up. To pause in that moment as he is making a turn and look at me. After 15 minutes, he has hooked on and following me around the round pen. His breathing is barely elevated and he hasn’t even broken a sweat. This is important. I don’t want him rundown and tired. I don’t want him stressed. I want him alert. I want him to be there with me. More importantly, I want him to want to be there with me. I can know he does if the life is still there in him, maybe just bubbling under the surface, because as soon as he doesn’t want to be there, he’ll take off. I need to see if we’re still there, together or not. All of this, in the first few minutes, was just to get Janus into a learning frame of mind.

Now that we’re hooked on, we’re ready for the first handshake. I pull out my trusty blue tarp. Janus has seen this tarp before, a couple of years ago. But it has been awhile and things can change. I unfold it, watching him watch me. I move deliberately, but I’m not trying to sugar coat this scary blue tarp. If he gets scared, I want him to run off, but inside, I want him to stay. Deep down, I’m hoping he gets curious. It is windy, and the tarp flaps freely. No snort, no wide eyed stare, no cocked ears expressing uncertainty. No tensing of his feet telling me he is thinking of moving off. No.

Instead, he reaches over and touches it with an upper lip. The handshake.

We’re just getting started, but I know that I have a partner in this now. Over the next few minutes, we did all kinds of foolishness with that tarp. I’m sure my neighbors thought I’d lost my mind. I make it fun and keep it interesting. It looks like foolish play, but Janus is learning a lot about trust, fear, impulsion, sensitization, desensitization and curiosity. For today at least, what I want and what he wants got together well. One day soon, after he is saddled, I hope that those things stay aligned, because that will be a good ride.
 

Fooling with the Tarp

These photos tell part of Janus’ story.
1. Look at his ears, eye, stance, and puckered upper lip. What is he feeling? What does his body language communicate?
2. A few seconds later. His stance hasn’t changed, but his attitude sure has, he is looking at me, rather than looking for a better deal somewhere else.
3. Jay decides to further investigate his “predicament.” CURIOSITY!!!
4. Ultimately, he decided that I might be helpful to him. This was a good moment.

Thank you for reading this! I hope you find it interesting, maybe helpful. If you have any questions, or want me to discuss any topics you find interesting, fire me off an email or leave a comment below.