
Let me set the scene for you.
A fifteen-year-old girl, summer heat, and a painted quarter horse with an attitude problem.
I hadn’t had the opportunity to ride for a while, and I was excited. We were going on a trail ride through the beautiful mountains of Newman Lake, Washington.
I tacked up the horse my friends were letting me lease for the summer, making sure the cinch was tightened, checking his hooves for rocks. The whole shebang. I hoisted myself into the saddle, positioned myself, and brought him around to the pasture to get better acquainted with how he moved and responded to my commands.
All was well until we came to the first patch of grass. Yank, his head went down. I corrected him. A few more steps, yank. Okay, fine. That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?
I managed to get his head up, but it was at this moment I realized; he was showing little to no regard for my directional cues.
I fought and struggled with that horse for a good 10-15 minutes, trying to get him to respond to me. He paid me no mind and kept meandering around the pasture like I wasn’t even there.
It was over 80 degrees outside, my helmet was itchy, my legs were tired. Everyone was waiting for me to gain authority over this impossible animal.
I don’t remember who it was, but eventually, someone called over to me. “You’re neck reining him, right?”
My insides froze, the world turned to slow motion.
Oh.
I had not known that he was neck reined and not direct reined, which for those of you who are not familiar, are two pretty different techniques. One is more bit heavy, and the other is through the length of the reins.
It was magical how quickly my experience turned around when I started communicating with him in a way he understood. He was still as stubborn as they come, but he was listening to me. That turned into one of the best trail rides I’ve had the privilege of completing.
How could that situation have been avoided?
A few ways come to mind: I could have thought to change my reining approach sooner, his owners could have made sure I knew how he had been trained beforehand. Or, I could have asked for help. And, I could have looked past the stubbornness and found the confusion beneath it.
It comes down to the fact that everyone has their version of communication, their way of responding to life. It’s a prominent theme between teachers and students; once you figure out the learning style of your pupil, there’s no limit to what can be achieved.
If we all took the time to learn each other’s styles, as well as being open to new tactics, life would run more smoothly.
Me trying to force what I believed was the most efficient way of communicating did nothing but slow us down. I was able to successfully form a partnership with that snarky horse by listening to instruction and the
