Like a boss

"Don't let her get away with that."

"You need to be tough."

"He needs to be more afraid of you than he is of that."

"Show that horse who's the boss."

My early riding lessons were filled with phrases like these. I worshipped my instructor and tried really hard to do everything my she told me. Still, I struggled with the "my way or the highway" style of riding. This was partly because I was a scrawny little kid without the skills or strength to physically dominate my mount.

But also, I really wanted those horses to love me.

My parents stopped paying for riding lessons when I was thirteen. For a while it looked like my riding career was over. Then I lucked into Cinnamon, who led me to Tom Sawyer Day Camp.

Suddenly, I was the one telling other people to "show that horse who's boss."

I was a little bit bigger and stronger by then, and more often then not, I was able to coerce my mounts into better behavior. Still, it wasn't the way I wanted to ride. I knew there had to be a better way, and I found it in the teachings of Ray Hunt, whose words I read in the pages of Horse & Rider magazine. 

"Recognize the smallest change, the slightest try."

"Let your idea become the horse‘s idea."

"If you get bucked off or kicked or bitten, you obviously did something wrong . . . The horse, on the other hand, is never wrong."

"Make the wrong thing difficult and the right thing easy."

Ray Hunt gave me permission to be kinder, gentler and more patient with the horses in my life. Almost immediately I had some success with horses that hadn't responded well to more forceful training. 

Success creates opportunity. I spent the next thirty years riding other people's horses. 

Some of them were fine. 

Others needed a lot of work.

I don't consider myself a horse trainer, but I've definitely had a hand in training a lot of horses.

Now I have a horse of my own.

She came to me green but well started, a near perfect blank slate for me to write upon.

I've taken that responsibility seriously and have been very deliberate in my training choices. I want Olive to be her best self; confident, relaxed, willing and cheerful. The last ten months have been a lot of letting my ideas become Olive's ideas, and never, ever attempting to show her who's boss.

And let's be honest: Olive is the boss. Everyone knows it.

It's a slow way to train a horse - especially for someone who is not a trainer - but that's okay. I'm not in a hurry. I'll give her all the time she needs. 

If she needs me to dismount and lead her past the things that scare her, that's what I'm going to do. I want her to trust me, not fear me.

And even though I am fifty three years old, I still want my horse to love me. Moreover, I want to be worthy of her love.

Every day, every ride, we get a little bit closer to our goals. Every day, every ride, I am grateful to all the horses, horsemen and horsewomen who have taught how - and how not - to train a horse.