How zodiac signs explain (sort of) our herd dynamics.

Yack, yack yack ... don't interrupt me today! I've got things to say!

There are tons of guides to horse personalities. Linda Tellington-Jones has her interpretations of facial swirls. Pat Parelli talks about “horse-analities,” based on the equine’s innate characteristics, learned behavior and spirit. Klaus Ferdinand Hempfling (“What Horses Reveal”) has 26 character groups, such as “the pilgrim,” “pegasus” and “the friend.” I’m sure the list of horse personality decoders could go on and on, as well as the debates about how much water any of these methods hold.

These things came to mind over the weekend, during a discussion of zodiac signs and the zodiac elements (fire, water, earth and air). Humans have long been trying to decode our own personalities, as well as those of the animals around us. So just for fun … I decided to see how my horses stacked up against their zodiac signs.

Junior, born April 19, is an Aries — a fire sign known for volatility and passion. Temperamental? Oh yeah … although he is mellowing as he ages. But with this sign covering March 21 – April 20, I’ve got a feeling there will be a lot of equine Aries. I’ve actually got two others — Zen and Ocho, both born on April 6 of different years, and they’re as mellow as the day is long.

Their horoscope for the day (from www.astrology.com): Be the first to speak up today, otherwise the conversation will be dominated by those who don’t know what they’re talking about.

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The curtain closes on a life lived well – with dancing, racing American Quarter Horses and, above all, vim and vigor.

I was lugging a big camera bag, all right? And it was very heavy.

That was how I rationalized it in my mind, at least, when I found myself struggling to keep up with the 101-year-old Doris Eaton Travis when I visited her in 2005 to do a story for America’s Horse. She was an absolute gem – warm, gracious and extremely energetic. She was waiting for me on the front porch as I drove in to her Norman, Oklahoma, ranch. And from there – as though she couldn’t wait to talk about the horses that had been her passion for the past 30 years or so – she sped inside toward the study, where shelves of trophies and winners circle photos awaited. It was, ahem, a little hard to match her pace.

We laughed about it at the time, and she told me her secret: always staying busy, both mentally and physically.

Sadly, I read today in The New York Times, that time had finally caught up with her. On Tuesday, at 106, she died of an aneurysm. The venerable Times thought her death noteworthy because she was the last remaining Ziegfield Girl, an icon of the Jazz Age.

“Beneath towering, glittering, feathered headdresses, the Ziegfeld Girls floated across grand Broadway stages in lavish pageants known as the Ziegfeld Follies, often to the wistful tune that Irving Berlin wrote just for them: ‘A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody,’ ” the Times wrote.

“It was beauty, elegance, loveliness,” Mrs. Travis told the newspaper in 2005, “beauty and elegance like a French painting of a woman’s body.”

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Check out some of the games that may be on tap for QuarterFest.

Holly Clanahan

What’s a party without party games? That’s why AQHA staffers had so much fun recently brainstorming about the games that will be part of the playday at the second annual QuarterFest: A Celebration of the American Quarter Horse, April 30 – May 2 in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Our Facebook fans even got in on the game, suggesting some of their favorites. There’s a lot of people out there having fun with their horses, and that’s what it’s all about!

Although our playday agenda isn’t firmed up, here are a few of the games we’re talking about. If you’ve got other fun-day favorites, please leave us a comment!

Egg and Spoon Horsemanship – This is a spin on the traditional egg and spoon race, which has participants zooming from a starting point to a finish line, balancing an egg on a spoon. In horsemanship, riders are asked to perform a pattern. The one who completes the greatest portion of the pattern before dropping the egg wins. It’s a good test of horsemanship, because if you don’t have a steady seat and good balance, your egg will soon wobble off the spoon.

Cowboy Jousting – This requires a little engineering, but it’s well worth it. We use tall L-shaped frames made of PVC pipe with a string hanging from the top. Rings of various sizes (starting at about 6 inches) are attached to the string. These frames line the perimeter of the arena, and a rider carrying a jousting pole circles the arena, spearing the rings, which then release from the frame. This is a timed event, but skill obviously plays a big role, as well.

Boot Scramble – Riders start the game horseback in their stocking feet. Boots are piled at the other end of the arena. The riders race to the pile, then helpers hold the riders’ horses while the riders find their boots, put them on, then re-mount and ride back to the starting point.

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When curiosity could kill the horse.

Image from Wikipedia Commons, posted by user Korall.

Zen, my 4-year-old mare that I’m bringing along, has the most amazing sense of curiosity. She’s inquisitive and eager to learn — qualities you love to find in a horse. Except for yesterday, when it could have proved disastrous.

It unfolded around lunch time, when I went to check on the barking dogs (who are penned), expecting to find a barn-cat tussle. Instead, I found a raccoon, nestled up by the water tank in the horse pasture. He didn’t run away, but just hunkered down to watch me. Human voices didn’t send him skittering away, either.  When he finally did walk off, he was slow and unsure in his movements. Of course, anything could have been wrong with him, but my mind was flashing one word: RABIES.

I called Chad, asking him to come bearing arms. As I’ve talked about here before, we hate killing anything, but a potentially rabid animal? That’s an automatic trip to raccoon heaven. I shut the two mares, Zen and Sooner, out of that section of pasture and began going over them, making sure they hadn’t tussled with the varmit. When I found the raccoon, the horses were nowhere near it — but I didn’t know how long it had been there, either.

Sooner got the first inspection. She’s such a beautiful mare, I could stare at her for hours. So I admired her feminine-but-muscular form as I walked around her, grumbled briefly about all the sorrel hair that’s shedding off in insane quantities, and then pronounced her OK. No scratches or any other signs that she might have had any contact with the ‘coon.

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Duchess was a queen around our place.

Duchess in October 2009

I stroked her supine burgundy-bay neck, gently running my hand over the haircoat that lay the wrong way, running from withers to poll. No one had ever told her it was supposed to go the other way.

Just like no one had ever told her that horses weren’t supposed to live to be 40. Or that they weren’t supposed to die the day after Valentine’s Day, with three children peering out the window and preemptively mourning the loss of their “grandma horse.”

She had been my mom’s horse, having outlived her owner by almost 14 years. Taking care of her — with three meals a day of senior feed gruel, a pink blanket to stave off the cold, a fan in the summertime and plenty of wither scritches in between — had been a way to honor my mom, to say thanks for all she had done for me. After all, it was she who bequeathed to me my love of horses, the thing that has become my therapy and my life.

Duchess was one of our first horses, the one we bought nearly 30 years ago from a low-end auction before we knew you weren’t really supposed to do that. If I remember correctly, we paid $650 for her, at a time when “good” horses were going for much more than that. She turned out to be golden. She was a gaited horse of unknown origin, and when our 4-H horse club went trail riding, Duchess and my mom were right there, gliding over the ground beside me and my Quarter Horse.

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It’s the end of The Great Horse Hunt but the beginning of a new adventure.

We’ve been horse hunting for a while, checking out some horses through word of mouth but mostly shopping online. I’ve met some horses who didn’t quite fill our bill for one reason or another, but I also got to visit with some really nice horse people, making the whole thing a positive experience.

More than anything, I got verrry familiar with the advanced search function for classified ads on AQHA’s Web site, because we had a lot of variables to plug in. We were looking for a easygoing horse for my husband, Chad, to learn to ride on, and which could double as a kid horse for our nieces and nephew when they come to visit. We wanted a stocky horse shorter than 15 hands for ease of mounting, and we preferred a gelding to fit in our herd situation. Bonus points if he’s low in the pecking order and won’t fight with our other horses. Color didn’t matter so much, but he obviously had to have a heart of gold and be comfortable trail riding and checking cattle. We wanted a horse that was somewhat older and experienced, but with no soundness or other health issues. Oh, and we didn’t exactly have an unlimited budget, either, and we couldn’t travel cross-country to try out horses.  Like I said … a lot of variables.

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Some horsey groups keep the spirit of giving alive all year long.

Holly Clanahan

In these last few days before Christmas, it’s easy to get caught up in the hubbub of the season. Did I leave anybody off my list? (In my case … yes, I forgot our wonderful rural mailman and the feed-store owner to whom I usually send a tin of homemade goodies!) Do I have all the fixings for a big family dinner? Are all the presents wrapped? (Again, in my case, that’s a “no!”)

The spirit of giving and generosity sometimes gets lost in the midst of the “ACK!!!!” But then, sometimes, you meet someone who helps you get it back in perspective.

For me this year, that someone was Bill Shackelford, a longtime AQHA member from Sheridan, Wyoming, and president of Westrust, a charitable organization that originated from the Western and English Sales Association (WESA), which is a market group at the Denver Merchandise Market. Their target audience, obviously, is horse people, and they never seem to lose that magical spirit of Christmas.

“So far, we’ve helped over 15 individuals and spent over $30,000,” Bill says. And it’s been just as much of a gift to the Westrust managers when they see the effect they have on people.

“We give some financial and psychological help to the recipients. They feel like nobody’s there to help them, and when we do help them, it’s amazing how much their attitudes change. It’s not only the financial help, but the fact that there are people out there that are concerned about them,” Bill says.

He mentions one person who thought he was going to lose his house and was despondent. After receiving help from Westrust and getting that “shot in the arm,” his life seemed to turn around. A job offer soon followed, bringing with it a return to financial stability.

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Christmas shopping can wait; we’ve got horses to ride!

Amount of house-cleaning done this weekend: Zilch.

Number of holiday errands crossed off my list this weekend: Zero.

Amount of training put in on the young horse (in beautiful riding weather, I might add): Zip.

Regrets: Nada.

Our place was bombarded this weekend by three small children – my nieces and nephew, ages 4, 6 and 7. The middle child, in particular, is a horse kid.

If the weather’s not cooperative when she comes to visit, we usually hole up in the house and watch horse movies. Anybody out there need to know a line from “Flicka” or “Virgina’s Run” (the two current favorites)? Just ask; I’ve got most of them memorized.

“Flicka” is such a fave, in fact, that one of my horses has been tagged with that nickname. Never mind that Junior is a tall gray gelding, rather than a wild black mustang mare. Mere details.

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A whole herd of Quarter Horse enthusiasts rode into the recent United States Dressage Federation convention.

Carla Wennberg riding Larks Chaos.

Stereotypes are never a good thing, but it can be easy to fall prey to them. For instance, when I conjure up an image of a typical dressage horse, I visualize an elegant 17-hand warmblood with a name and pedigree that I can hardly pronounce. I expect that many people think of American Quarter Horses as wearing nothing but western saddles. In reality, both of those ideas deserve a good stick of dynamite.

This past weekend, my friend and co-worker Andrea Caudill and I attended the United States Dressage Federation convention in Austin, Texas. Both of us ride dressage (on our Quarter Horses) and were excited about the chance to learn more about it through the educational offerings at the convention. Plus, we were taking with us some educational materials of our own, about the new AQHA program that allows Quarter Horse riders at USDF/United States Equestrian Federation shows to earn AQHA points and other awards. Read the rest of this entry »

Taming the dragon by staying one step ahead of her.

Riding at home. Can't see the scales and wings here, can you?

More on Buster McLaury’s colt-starting clinic …

On Day 1 of the clinic, Zen quickly showed her stripes by asserting her dominance over the nine other colts as they were turned loose in the arena wearing their saddles. She had kicked, dive-bombed and generally taken on the role of Ms. Alpha Mare. She owned that role.

And now, Day 2, I was astride the dragon with only a rope halter and lead rope to prevent any playground fights. I had talked to Buster about how to handle the situation, should she show aggression toward another horse while I was on her back. The key, he said, was to be ahead of the problem. Pay attention to her (she’ll tell you with her ears and body what she’s thinking about) and when she puts her focus on another colt, move her feet and bring her mind back to her rider. Even with a halter and lead rope, you can ask for soft lateral flexions.

Bear in mind, though, that none of these colts had very good steering yet. You know how bumper cars clumsily maneuver? Kind of like that.  But we didn’t need to be in these colts’ mouths yet. Buster wanted them to get accustomed to having a rider on their back (which is no small thing) and being directed with broad strokes.

As expected, Zen made ugly faces at the colts who crossed her path, but she tried no physical violence. Using just the single lead rope and swinging it over her head to change direction, I tried to direct her feet away from oncoming colts and keep her focus on me. It wasn’t the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but we did stay out of trouble. The maneuvering got easier on Day 3, when we put the colts in snaffle bits and I had the benefit of two reins. Still, though, there were ugly faces.

My concern — aside from everyone’s safety, of course — was what was causing Zen to act that way, when she didn’t normally show aggression toward other horses at home. I suspected it was insecurity. You know people who, when they get fearful, end up sniping at everyone around them?

If Zen was going to come out of her shell and be Miss All That, that’s fine … but I didn’t want it to be rooted in fear.

When we got home, I called my friend, AQHA Professional Horseman Brent Graef. He knew me, and he knew Zen, and I was eager to hear his take on the situation. He agreed with Buster’s suggestions, but he expanded on them a little bit.

If I can stay just a little bit farther ahead of Zen … let’s say a horse is walking behind her on her right side. The instant she flicks her right ear around, if I can be there — maybe just by stroking the right side of her neck — to say, “I see what’s bothering you. Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.” — that should help allay her fears and help her gain confidence.

Horses, after all, are born either to lead or follow. They’re happy to follow the lead of a clear, confident handler. But if they’re not given adequate direction, they’re equally happy to take the reins themselves, so to speak. In Zen’s case, I needed to let her know, “I’ll handle those other colts; you don’t have to.”

We’ve been working on that at home. It’s not that often that I have someone to ride with here, but when I do, I ask the other rider to circle us at varying distances, ride up beside us, etc., while I keep close track of where Zen’s mind is. The real test, I know, will be when I take her somewhere again.

We’re trying to organize a clinic with Brent in Amarillo in December, though the details are not worked out yet. When that comes together, that’ll be my target for Zen. Another strange place, more strange horses … how will she handle it? How will I be able to help her?

That all remains to be seen, but if the dragon rears its ugly head again, at least it will have better steering this time!

Happy riding!
Holly Clanahan
Editor, America’s Horse magazine

Don’t miss the fun, educational and heart-warming stories in the print version of America’s Horse! It goes to all members of the American Quarter Horse Association, and it’ll also keep you in the loop on Association news. We want you to belong!

My little girl? A bully? Oh yes, indeed!

Buster McLaury

As promised, more on the colt-starting clinic with Buster McLaury.

It was early October when “Zen” and I took a five-hour jaunt into the Flint Hills of Kansas, where Rex Buchman, a friend of America’s Horse and a good cowboy in his own right, was hosting the clinic for Buster. Rex had invited me to come cover the clinic (watch upcoming issues of the print edition of America’s Horse!) and had said he could probably find me a lightly started colt to ride if I wanted to.

“Or,” I said, the wheels spinning in my head, ”I could bring my own.” I’ve long thought Buster was someone I wanted to ride with, and it sure would be nice to start riding Zen again under some expert supervision. Buster is a lifelong ranch cowboy and a student of Ray Hunt; he has got an unbelievable amount of experience to share.

The colt-starting portion of the clinic began with Buster working with colts who had never been saddled before. (The clinic horses were fairly evenly split, with some first-timers and others, like Zen, who had been ridden only a little.) It’s so interesting to watch someone who really speaks “horse.” It sure was worth standing out in the rain for. It wasn’t long before Buster and the colts’ handlers had introduced flapping ropes, saddle blankets and the saddle. Read the rest of this entry »

“Cowboy pinch-rolled jeans” are about function, not fashion.

This past weekend was about all about the future. I attended a Buster McLaury clinic in the Kansas Flint Hills and had brought Zen for the colt-starting portion of the clinic. (I promise to write more about the phenomenal colt clinic later.) But as she and I worked to build our partnership, preparing for years of good rides and steady progress, I got a blast of nostalgia from the past. Read on and see if you do, too.

The afternoons were filled with cow work for older horses. Buster, who has spent his life as a ranch cowboy and as a student of Ray Hunt, has lots of experience starting horses on cattle. Look for a story in an upcoming print edition of America’s Horse magazine on this topic.

The horses’ amazing progress and the knowledge that was freely shared … well, those were the silver linings to a very literal dark cloud that hung over the clinic, pelting us with rain on Thursday, the first day, and chilling us with unseasonably cold temperatures and howling wind on the days that followed. We sought shelter at an indoor arena 30 minutes away and continued to haul over there for the remainder of the weekend.

You’ve got to love the resiliance of horse people; all the participants took the cold and dampness in stride, making adaptations as needed.

For me, it required a little wardrobe change. I normally wear my jeans on the outside of my boots, even though I have some neat boots with high pale-turquoise tops. But sloshing through mud with the pants legs out would have resulted in cold, soggy denim — a perfect prescription for misery and mess. So, I opted to stick them inside my boots. And as I made that decision, some long-forgotten muscle memory kicked in.

Sitting in the mud room of the Buchman family home (our gracious clinic hosts), I thoughtlessly grabbed my jeans, cuffed them and then wrapped the boot-cut legs tightly around my ankles so they’d fit neatly inside the boot shafts. I saw other riders — including cowboys who habitually wear their jeans that way — do the same thing. I had to laugh — we were doing a cowboy version of the pinch-roll.

Those of you who were around during the 1980s know just what I’m talking about. We wore our tight-rolled jeans with high-top Reeboks and big hair. And we were cool.

Now, I doubt any of these ranch cowboys partook in such embarrassing fads. So is it the collective unconscious at work when two unconnected cultures come up with the same idea? And, if so, does that mean that — like eating utensils and campfires — the pinch-roll is a universal good thing?

I’m not sure I’ll buy into that idea … After all, the cowboy’s version is rooted in function, not fashion. It’s not about being cool. In our case this weekend, it was about not being cold.

I will say, though, I do like those turquoise-topped buckaroo boots, so maybe the cowboy pinch-roll technique can stay in my reportoire.  But the high-top Reeboks and big hair? Those are definitely not getting a resurrection!

Happy riding!
Holly Clanahan
Editor, America’s Horse magazine

Don’t miss the fun, educational and heart-warming stories in the print version of America’s Horse! It goes to all members of the American Quarter Horse Association, and it’ll also keep you in the loop on Association news. We want you to belong!