48 Inches

They say some people miss entering heaven by 18 inches, that is, the distance from their head to their heart.  Those are the people who can't live on faith alone, and therefore never receive the abundant blessings that God wants to bestow on them.  They die without realizing that if they'd opened their heart to God and let Him show them the way to live, the struggles of daily life wouldn't have seemed insurmountable.  They die without ever knowing how wonderful it feels to let God take the reins and direct their life.

I guess Belle missed heaven by 48 inches, since the distance from a horse's head to her heart is much greater than a human's.  No, Belle isn't dead, but she has moved on, and she never got to experience the great things that I had planned for her.  I'm obviously not God, nor do I have a God complex, but I did have a plan for Belle, a direction for her life, and abundant blessings that I would have loved to have bestowed on her.  She was fed hay and grain, but she never got to graze in a lush green pasture.  She had a clean and dry area to spend her days in, but she never got to roll in the mud or wade in the gentle stream.  She had room to move around, but she never got to gallop across the huge, hilly field.  She had a pony for a friend, but she never got to run with the herd.  Belle had the basics, but she never had the blessings.

Belle had more belief in her own opinion of how life should be than she had for my knowledge of how life could be better.  She was willing to take basic sustenance from me, but never a feast.  She was willing to let me touch her, but just barely.  She would take my kisses, but she shunned my embrace.  She knew I was real, but she didn't have faith in me.  She could see the rainbow, but she didn't hear the promise.

Maybe it was my fault, maybe I tried too hard, or maybe it just wasn't meant to be.  I've had to take some time away from the barn to recover from a medical procedure that I had in January.  While planning for this time off, I contacted the wonderful gals at the BLM office in Oregon and asked if they could find another trainer to take Belle.  I knew that without daily interaction Belle would regress in her progress to become gentle, and I wanted the best for her, so I was hoping that someone would take the challenge and pick up where I left off.  Fortunately, a very experienced trainer in Oregon stepped up to the plate, and transportation was arranged for Belle.

It's been six weeks since Belle left.  Her new trainer describes her as "bold, but wanting to connect."  I hope that means there's a chance that Belle will put her whole heart, body and soul in the hands of her trainer.  I hope it means she'll live the life she was meant to live.  I hope it means that 48 inches isn't an uncrossable chasm.  And I hope she takes the leap of faith.

Belle's Gold Medal

Wild mustangs fresh from the BLM corrals almost always wear a tag printed with their personal identification number on a length of stiff, waxy string around their throat latch.  In Oregon, the BLM uses red string for the mares and fillies, and a bluish colored string for colts, stallions, and geldings.  The tag is made of sturdy yellow plastic, and is kind of a triangular shape with rounded corners.  The string is woven through and tied to a small, V-shaped piece of aluminum that has three holes on each end.  I imagine that putting the string around the neck of a nervous, unhandled mustang in a stock is no easy task, and I admire the wranglers who have the skill and patience necessary to accomplish it.  Taking the string and tag off of the mustang is a bit tricky as well, and is considered by most folks to be a momentous occasion, on par with cutting the umbilical cord.  With the tag on, the horse is a wild mustang referred to by its number.  With the tag off, the horse is on its way to being domestic, and is trusting enough to let a human put her hands by its throat and undo the tricky little knot there.  Once in my hand, the humble piece of yellow plastic feels like an Olympic gold medal.

Typically, a trainer or adopter can plan on getting the number tag off the new mustang within two weeks or so.  Typically.  Is Belle typical?  Nope.  I've had Belle for exactly ten months today, and today is the day that she chose to let me take her tag off.  Instant gratification is highly overrated, by the way.  Delayed gratification is so much more rewarding!

Since the day that I was first able to scratch Belle's star, I've been working my hands around her face and her throat, and playing with her tag as well as the rope and halter.  Today I was hoping to be able to touch her neck and mane, which I did, but I didn't really plan to remove her tag.  Belle was so relaxed and happy with being petted and scratched, that removing it just seemed like the right thing to do.  While I was at it, I gave a big, nasty chunk of loose mane a good, hard tug and the whole big blob came out in my hand.  It is lovely hair, but she looks better without it hanging there.  Working out the tangles in the rest of her mane will be a job for another day.

Belle was willing to give me more, so I snapped my 15 foot-long rope onto her halter and played a little bit of pressure-and-release with her, then removed it and let her relax while I scratched her face and neck again.  It was a very satisfying session, and the best part was that Belle was comfortable with everything that I did.  I think she deserves a medal!

Adopted....Happy Trails, Capri!

Capri has a home!  She was adopted by a wonderful, experienced horsewoman named Kimberly who does her own training and was looking for just the right horse to be a fun project and a life-long companion.  She saw the ad that I posted on craigslist, and immediately called me to let me know that she and Capri belonged together.  Have you ever had one of those moments?  You know, when you first see your horse, and you know beyond any doubt that it is meant to be yours forever and ever?  I've felt that way, a couple of times now, and this lovely lady felt that way about Capri.  She faxed her paperwork to the BLM, got approved lickety-split, and high-tailed it up the interstate for two hours to meet her new friend. 

It was love at first sight for both of them.  They checked either out from a distance, then approached one another for a first touch, then shared some time just breathing together.  Kimberly brushed Capri, played with her in the roundpen, and asked all of the right questions.  She spent two hours here, and there was no doubt in my mind that the two of them were a match.

With final approval from the office in Burns, Kimberly loaded Capri in her trailer and headed back down the interstate through rush-hour traffic.  Capri settled into her new home easily, and has a cute appy gelding for a friend.  Kimberly tells me that she is fascinated by Capri's temperament--that she has a kind personality and yet she is open to learning, too.  That is very true, and it sums Capri up really well.  She is mellow and gentle, but not a plug; she is smart and funny and sweet and will show her snazzy side when asked.

Capri, my friend, I wish you the best in your new forever home.  Work hard, play hard, learn well, eat lots of cookies, and do what you do best...dish out your love and kindness and show the world how wonderful mustangs are.

Adopted!

It's official!  The paperwork is in, the check has been cashed, and the travel plans have been made.  Siesta has a new mom and dad, and you'll never guess where they live.  In Oregon!  Not just anywhere in Oregon, either, but in Burns, right where Siesta came from!  How about that?

So here's Siesta's life story so far:  Born wild in the Palomino Butte Herd Management Area, which is just 15 miles from Burns; gathered at a year and a half of age; brought to the corrals in Burns to stand around and look pretty for fifteen months; hauled to Northwest Washington State to be gentled, trained, and fussed over by a crazy mustang trainer; and now she's going right back where she started from.  Except this time around, she'll be part of a horse-loving family that logs up to 1200 miles on horseback each summer.  Can you imagine such a life?  I can only dream about it.  Siesta has got to be one of the luckiest dang horses out there, don't you think?

Siesta isn't going home until June 12th, so I have four more weeks to play with her and advance her training.  Yes, I'll miss her.  Siesta is one of those horses that will linger in my heart for a long, long time, but I am so happy for her that she gets to go home, the only tears I'm crying are happy ones.  Mustangs and happy tears seem to go hand in hand, don't they?

By the way, if any of you folks here in Washington would like to meet Siesta before she goes home, she and I will be at the BLM mustang adoption in Ellensburg June 11th for a little bit of Show and Tell.  I'll be choosing my next TIP horse from the ones at the adoption, so if anyone is interested in adopting a mustang gentled by me, contact me and we can work out the details.

All dressed up...

Siesta and I decided it was time to try on a few of the items in the tack room.  We started with the cute little itty-bitty red pony bareback pad...

...and she thought that was just too darn funny.  "You call that a saddle?  Ha, ha, ha!"

So we moved on to the cute little itty-bitty black pony saddle...

...which was still pretty funny.  Maybe we need some accessories?

Yes, a bridle, that's what she wanted.  A snaffle bit and reins, just like a real horse.  All she needs now is a rider!  I stood on a mounting box and scooted her up next to me, then laid my right leg over her back and rubbed it back and forth.  I put some weight on it, too, and she just looked at me like, "Well get on already!"  Believe me, I was tempted, but she's got some learnin' to do first.  Back on the ground, I asked her to give to the bit, left and right and back up.  She did that with no problem, so I'll spend some time this weekend ground-driving her to teach her to balance herself in a frame and practice Whoa and Go.  She's going to be such a breeze to get going under saddle.  Whoever adopts this little sweetheart is going to have an awesome partner!  

I really wish I had taken video of me tacking Siesta up.  She just stood there, ground tied, and let me do whatever I wanted.  I went appropriately slow, I was in no hurry, and let her look at and sniff everything, but, sheesh, most horses at least snort or pull back a couple of times.  Nothing like that from Siesta; it was just green lights all the way.  Cinching up was no big deal, walking and trotting under saddle was nothing, and accepting the bit was pure bliss.  What fun!  Did I mention Siesta is available for adoption?  What are you waiting for???  Get your paperwork into the BLM as fast as you can, 'cause whoever gets this little doll is going to be one lucky cowpoke.

Two Months

Siesta has been with me for exactly two months today.  Time really does go quickly, especially when I'm having so much fun.  It's been a blast, watching Siesta develop into a trusting, respectful, willing partner.  She is such a cool horse, a real beauty, a fast learner, and a lovey-dovey sweetheart too.

Interested adopters need to fill out and submit an application to the Bureau of Land Management.  Go here for the form.  Please mail it directly to the BLM at 28910 Hwy 20 West, Hines, OR 97738.

Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions about Siesta, mustangs in general, or the adoption process.  I'd love to hear from you!