Cowboy wisdom comes at a stiff price. My Equine career consisted of working for fifteen years in a Rescue Ranch and an Equine Massage School. I made all the novice mistakes. I was a true green horn and paid dearly. Real life consists of people who make mistakes every day.
One of our early rescues was a fifteen year old gray Appaloosa named Snowy. He was not able to be ridden and had a bad attitude. We would soon find out the cause. A local rancher explained that the outfitter had a problem with him not responding to the reins when they tried neck reining him. Their solution was to put large pointed tacks in the reins so that when they laid the reins over his neck, they would stick him. He would eventually learn to move away from the reins. They didn’t take into account how stubborn an Appaloosa really is. This just served to ruin him. They ended up packing him between the mules and he spent his career there.
My wife Kathy, being an English rider, suggested that I mouth rein him. I tried it, and Snowy responded well. He resisted when urging him to move forward, especially at a speed greater than a walk. I remember clearly saying to Kathy, “Open the gate to the big field, I’m going to teach him to run.”
“Perhaps that’s not a good idea Al,” was her response. “Just open the gate,” I replied curtly. She smiled, opened the gate, and stepped aside. At the same time she opened it our other horse Buddy rushed out to get to the fresh grass. The gate hit Snowy in his butt. I got my wish. Snowy bolted like a shot. He was bucking with both feet like a bucking bronco. I am a novice rider and after the third buck I remember seeing my feet out in front of me above my head.
I hit the ground hard, very hard. The vision of Snowy bucking off across the field without me still lingers. I became a Cowboy that day. A true Buckaroo. I was to eventually make peace with Snowy, and gain valuable Cowboy Wisdom. I learned gentle training, and not only to lead a horse to water, but also how to get him to drink.
Albert Bianchine
