As Amigo
settled into a routine on the ranch, he became more comfortable around people,
dogs, and other horses. In particular, he had to become accustomed to the small
barn kittens darting between his legs as he was tied in the stall to eat his
grain.
Though this seems on the surface a
little thing, it actually helped Amigo a lot. Those kittens -- and more
specifically, the feeling of having something brush against his hoof and leg --
desensitized Amigo to the point where I could start working with his feet.
On a Saturday afternoon one week after Amigo arrived at the ranch, I spent several hours working with
his legs and feet. In that first week I had already achieved many milestones,
including being able to touch him all over his head, neck and body; teaching
him to lead without pulling back; and establishing a bond between him and me
that will allow us to continue to progress as a team. However, at that point he
had yet to allow me to touch his feet. Not only did this pose a problem in
simply handling Amigo, but also this resistance prevented me from exploring the
reason for some swelling on his right hind leg that had been there since I
picked him up in Colorado. Therefore, it became quite important that he allow
me to touch and pick up his feet.
My method was simple and one that
I've used on hundreds of horses: I simply roped one foot at a time, and allowed
Amigo to kick against the pressure of the rope. As he fought, I held the rope
taut but continued to move with him so as not to pull him off balance. The
objective was not to overpower the horse, but to teach him not to resist the
pressure. As soon as he quit fighting and put his foot down, I released the
pressure on the rope. Then we repeated the process as many times as necessary,
until he didn't fight at all when he felt the rope tighten around his pastern.
Once I was able to rope one foot without him fighting, I moved on to the next.
As expected, the rear right foot, on
the swollen leg, took the longest. I suspect that Amigo learned quickly to
protect that foot, to not let anything else touch it or injure it further. It
was interesting to observe that, although he resisted being touched on that
foot and did show signs of swelling, he had never favored that leg while I worked
with him. We think that, in addition to learning to protect that foot, he had
also learned not to display pain or weakness in that leg, as this display would
put him in danger in the wild.
The technique of roping the feet has
several practical applications among horsepeople. As mentioned, being able to
pick up a horse's feet allows a human to examine them, clean the hooves, and
shoe them. Teaching the horse to stand still when they feel the rope against
the pastern will help minimize injury if he ever gets caught in a coil of loose
barbed wire.
However, I have another goal that
leads me to use this roping technique: once the horses stops fighting the
pressure of the rope, I then use the rope to teach the horse to plant that foot
and move the other three feet around it. This will eventually transfer to the
signals I give when I am riding him: as I use my body to put pressure on one
leg, he will stabilize that leg and pivot on it, moving the other three feet
around -- the beginning of a spin. Thus, an advanced movement -- one that does
not come naturally for the horse -- begins simply, with foundation work on the
feet.
So much of horse training is like
that; one needs to think far enough ahead, to what we want the finished product
to be, to know the techniques and strategies that are best used. When we take
the time to lay a solid foundation in the first days and weeks of training, we
will most likely be rewarded sometime down the road with a horse that is a
talented, willing partner.
Many trainers used to believe that
advanced movements, like spins and crossovers, were achieved by pulling on the
horse's head and mouth; some may still think this. And it is true that a
horse's head controls much of their balance: one quickly learns, riding young
colts, to pull their head around in order to regain control when they begin to
buck or run away. However, you don't want your horse to be off balance; you
want him to move freely. A horse's foundation is his feet: therefore, you must
teach him to find both balance and fluidity there, on the most solid part of
him.
We worked for at least an hour with
me horseback, roping Amigo's feet to desensitize them, and then to begin to
teach him how to move on them. At the end of the day, another milestone: Amigo
let me pick up all four feet! The
initial contact, with my hand encircling the pastern, should have felt similar
to the rope. When he fought my touch, as he did, I simply stayed with him as
I'd done before, moving with him but not releasing. Release for Amigo only came
when he surrendered the foot and allowed me to touch it. I was finally able to
look more closely at the swollen leg, which would prove to be a bigger problem
than I thought within a week or so -- more on that in another blog post.
At the end of the afternoon, we had
made good strides in once again establishing trust. For a horse to allow a
human to touch his feet and legs - his very foundation - is an immense act of
trust, and surrender. Likewise, for a human to bend down and place his head
next to the most powerful part of these magnificent animals also requires
faith. Amigo and I are learning to trust each other, to have faith that neither
one of us is out to harm the other. That will be our most important milestone
in the end. 