I never knew a horse that liked saddles until I introduced one to
Shadow, a young, solid black filly. She was two and it was time to start
her career.
I led her into the arena and worked her in circles on a long rope.
When a trace of sweat appeared on both of us, I let her stop and join
up. She eyeballed me for a second and then walked straight to me and
stopped close enough for her breath to hit me on the belt buckle. We
stared into each other's eyes and it seemed as if by mutual agreement,
we decided to stop trotting in circles and get on with something that
took a little more intelligence.
Sack her out, I thought. That always helps a youngster become
accustomed to the commotion humans create. I brought out a blanket and
moved it toward her. She sniffed it and looked away. I touched it to her
neck and she lowered her head and nipped a blade of grass coming up
through the sand.
"Sure don't bother her," I muttered. I rubbed her with the blanket
and left it sitting on her back. She remained indifferent, as if it
didn't mean a thing. We were covering a lot of ground in her first
session and she seemed agreeable to everything I introduced. "Might as
well see how far we can go," I thought.
I carried out an old saddle that nobody ever rides and dropped it on
the ground in front of her. One sniff and she looked away.
She was the easiest horse I'd ever fooled with. I was beginning to
like her "don't give a damn attitude." This session was starting to
become interesting. I looked her in the eye and said, "How'd you like to
see what this saddle feels like sitting on your back and cinched around
your belly?" She perked her ears toward me, lowered her head and looked
for another sliver of grass.
When I set the saddle on her back, she turned her head to it, twisted
a little sideways trying to get a better look and then let out a soft
nicker in my direction. No nervous snort or blowing from this girl, just
a low nicker like horses make to welcome you when you walk in the corral
first thing in the morning.
Encouraged, I reached under her belly and pulled the cinch till it
came up against her hide. No response. I slipped the latigo through the
cinch ring and threaded it through the D ring. It was snug, not tight.
She never moved. I tightened the cinch in slow motion until it was tight
enough to hold the saddle on and stepped away. She was focused on my
movements and I could swear she had a twinkle in her eye. |
I stepped to her and
unclipped the lead rope from her halter. I clucked and sent her away
with a wave of my arm. She gingerly stepped off at a trot as if she was
testing the new stuff to see if it would stay on. Shadow picked up the
pace and circled back to me. Her head turned in my direction and I
clucked again and threw my hat in the air.
You could see the lights go on and she galloped away with stirrups
and saddle strings flying. Her speed increased and she flew around the
arena with speed I didn't know she had. She made a few exhilarating
bucks like horses do when they're having fun in the pasture and then
bucked herself into a full speed run for two full laps. She slowed to a
high stepping trot and raised her tail like a flag.
This girl is showing off, I thought. "She likes that saddle on her
back," I said aloud. I called a long "whoooaa," and she came to a stop.
I clipped the lead back on her halter. Shadow's eyes were bright as fire
and no doubt she was pleased with herself.
Good judgment was replaced by spur of the moment foolishness. I
placed my boot in the nearside stirrup and raised up until she was
supporting my weight. She turned to see what I was doing and then
flicked her ears. One ear laid almost sideways and the other just kinda'
flopped the opposite direction like she was bored. That indifference was
my green light.
I knew I was rushing things with this young horse but, what the heck,
I thought, and swung my leg over and sat full in the saddle.
I kept the lead rope snug and coaxed her to do something with my boot
heels. Nothing. I kicked her a little harder and got my due.
She crammed her head between her legs, curled her back like a
fishhook and fired out like the space shuttle. She used the saddle she
was so proud of to fan my behind. It was slapping me so hard on each
jump that I knew I wouldn't last long. I got so far out of sync that I
was coming down when she was going up. The old saddle that nobody ever
rides launched me clear over her head. I landed on my back in a cloud of
dust. She went around me and broke down into that tail flaggin', high
steppin' trot.
I lay in the sand and watched her go. She was proud of that saddle on
her back. She just wasn't ready to share it with a saddle sore cowboy |
