Money is Not Time

The failure of modern horsemanship parallels the failure of modern parenting. Our horses and our children both need the same things from us--our discipline, our affection, and our love. All of these things demand our time. Unfortunately, misplaced priorities lead us to the conclusion that in our hectic lives there simply is not enough time to go around. We do not have time to play ball with our children, talk to our children, or provide them with the most basic of guidance. Instead, we try to make up for the deficit in time by spending incredible amounts of money on our children. There is no time to play ball, work out, jog, or bike with our kids but there is money to buy them the latest computer game to occupy their time. The true pathos is that our advertisement driven culture has convinced so many of us that expending great sums of money on our children is not only proof of our love for them, but even worse, is an adequate substitute for that love.

Our children do not need our money. They need our time.

We are all familiar with horses that appear to be raised only by the Horse Fairy. We never see their owners in the pasture with them. We never see them ridden. We never see them handled.

But we do see the expensive barn in the corner of the lot. We see the fancy halter that the horse wears 24-7. We see that it is at least two hundred lbs over weight, so we know that the Horse Fairy must be giving it really good, expensive feed. When the temperature dips below fifty degrees we see the new expensive blanket that magically appears on the horse.

Our horses do not need our money. They need our time. A horse is never happier than when it can stand near a herd mate, relaxing, breathing slowly, with its head lowered and eyes half closed, knowing that there is no danger, no predator anywhere around. Our horses need us to be that herd mate. One of the reasons that my horses are as close to me as they are is because I enjoy standing near them as the sun goes down, with my head lowered, my gaze averted, breathing slowly, while knowing that there is no danger around. One of the main reasons that my little riders are as successful in starting colts and wild horses is that they learn to love the same things.

There is no spiritual depth acquired by hanging out in a mall, but a kid learns much of life simply hanging out in the pasture.

No, for our horses, and for our kids, time is not money. Time is love.

Leave this Long Haired Country Boy Alone

This is one of the premier wild stallions of Shackleford Island , Dionysus, the father of my Shackleford stallion, Wanchese. Several factors, including a very sparse diet have caused the Shacklefords to evolve into smaller horses than they likely were when imported from Spain, or more likely, Hispaniola in the 1500's.

At least two Shacklefords were accepted into the Spanish Mustang Registry and the Horse of the Americas Registry has accepted the herd in its totality. Though small, they exhibit extraordinary Spanish movement.

Wanchese is available for breeding to all mares registered with the HOA at no cost and with modest rates for non-HOA mares.

Opening the Window

Over the next several weeks we are going to have a new feature in this blog that is very exciting. I will be interviewing some of the authors and thinkers on the cutting edge of the natural horse care and natural hoof care front, along with some of the real heroes who have worked to save endangered herds of Spanish Colonial Horses over the years. I have no doubt that it will be fascinating and I really appreciate the willingness of these authors and experts who have agreed to take the time to answer our questions and probably challenge some of our assumptions and presumptions about horses.

(If your are assuming that the one on the left is Medicine Dog, and presuming that the one on the right is Rebecca, then your assumptions and presumptions about this picture are correct.)

That Their young Men May have Visions and Their Old Men May Dream Dreams

Chance is 13. I am 49. At our training session Saturday afternoon we both took great steps forward. Chance has been riding less than a year. Like most boys, he was a very cautious rider. His confidence grew as he spent the summer turning my wild Corolla stallion, Trade Wind into a solid trail horse. He earned the right to be proud of himself when on September 20, 2008, he rode Trade Wind 46 miles in one day.

Saturday he put that confidence and pride to good use. We have been making solid progress with Red Feather, the most violent horse with whom I have ever worked. Though we were progressing, Red Feather was, and still is a long way from being a gentled trail horse of the type that we routinely produce. My experienced riders were also experienced at seeing just how hard Red Feather could buck and what an athlete he is. They did not volunteer to give him a try in the round pen.

Chance did volunteer. He rode him, first with Brent on the lead, and then freely in the round pen. What he showed was pure guts. It was the same kind of bravery that I had come to routinely expect from Lido and was delighted to see in Chance. I could not have been prouder of him.

I must admit that I was a bit proud of what is left of me also. I mounted Red Feather with Brent on the lead. He carried me beautifully. Very soon he will be my woods horse.

I do not know a lot of 13 year old boys that would have gotten on Red Feather and I do not know of a lot of 49 year old men that would have either.

Unfortunately, I do not have a picture of Chance on Red Feather, but Ashley snapped this one of me, Red Feather and Brent Saturday afternoon.

You Know You'll Have Hide Your Lying Eyes

At Corolla and Shackleford one finds strong, healthy colts, horses with impeccable hooves, no respiratory problems, and remarkably few health problems over all. Of course the horses are in such great shape, not in spite of the way they live, but because of the way they live.

From the ancient Greeks on, most European theology and philosophy has been based on the idea that nature is only there to be conquered and improved by man. That which is natural is per se inferior. That which is civilized is per se superior. Civilization is characterized by homes, farms, buildings and eventually towns carved out of the wilderness. Humans need homes not only for warmth, but also as proof of our sophistication and superiority to the beasts of the fields.

Therefor we expect, with out any thought or analysis, that our civilized horses need to live like civilized people and not like wild brutes. So we ignore the "vices" (stereotypical behaviors caused by being forced to spend time in an unnatural stable), respiratory problems, and lameness caused by standing on soft bedding instead of walking on firm soil. And if all of that is not bad enough we debilitate a horse's natural ability to regulate its body temperature by putting a blanket on it when it is allowed to ventured, ever so briefly, out in to the pasture. We then pat ourselves on the back for being such good horse owners. After all, we must be good owners because we spend a lot of money giving our horses this pampered, poisonous lifestyle.

One must really care about one's horses to provide them with the kind of natural horse care that they crave. It takes some guts to do so. All of the Mrs. Drysdales of the established horse world will sniff at how your poor horses are treated. Why you only have the vet out 2 or 3 times a year, they say, while they provide their horses with first rate vet care to treat their laminitis, recurring colic, aborted foals, arthritis, and ulcers.

On the other hand, the Ellie Mae Clampits of the world will notice right off the bat how happy and contented our herds are, how healthy they are, and how hard their hooves are.

But of course, we all must realize that Mrs. Drysdale loves her horses so much more than Ellie Mae ever will. I mean, yes, Ellie Mae, does spend every possible moment not only riding but just mingling with the herd, but Mrs. Drysdale proves her love in even more meaningful ways. She pays a fortune for their care. That proves love. Doesn't it?

(Pictured above are a pair of stunningly healthy Corolla colts who have spent their entire life in the wild, and who thank God every day that Mrs. Drysdale is not interested in adopting one of them. I mean, how can they be any good? They do not even cost a fortune)