Articles – Sheik |
Articles – Sheik |
|---|
Articles in English On horses Stories On translation Articles en français Chevaux
Histoires pour enfants Divers Regain (journal de la Confédération Paysanne) |
Eight's not exactly old for a horse, but it's true that few horses venture out into the world of humans at that age. It's OK for foals; you adapt more easily when you're young, but once you've reached a certain age you get set in your ways. Anyway, I was all right where I was. A perfectly acceptable field. Enough delicious grass to eat. And the odd mare now and again. So what on earth made me decide to adopt a human? I still can't understand it! You're right: it was a mad idea from the start. And because I'm the kind of horse who never does things by half, I'd push the madness to the limit and choose a beginner: not even broken! Ridiculous, yes, indeed. A fine cremello stallion like me could have had any human he liked. A well-broken, well-schooled human, in any case. A human I could have done top-level dressage or doma vaquera with. But no: I had to go and choose a wild, clumsy, inexperienced human. And you know what? You're not going to believe this, but that particular human just happened to be a little too old to learn anything at all. Sure, sure.I know. I'd been told a thousand times: you can't teach a human over thirty anything at all. Their brains and bodies just seize up. And after forty, it's just plain ludicrous. According to the book, you never give older humans a second look. But if I'd been the kind of horse to play by the book, I'd have just stayed put there in my field, wouldn't I? See what I mean? Call it hippomorphism if you like, but I knew as little of humans as he of horses. The symmetry of the situation appealed to me. Comparatively speaking, we were about the same age. I imagined we could learn together, despite the difficulties. That was the challenge, you see. I needed to prove to myself that I could still change the course of my life at eight years old -that I had the courage to leave my comfortable little field, to change my dreary old ways. I needed to prove to myself that I was still able to learn. And you know what? It sounds absolutely crazy, and you'll take me for an idiot, but I swear I saw the same thing in his eyes. It was almost as if he was choosing me rather than the other way round, and for exactly the same reasons. Crazy? Well crazier things happen. Of course, it wasn't exactly easy to start with. I might be hippomorphic, but never to the point of imagining that a horse should let his human get away with sloppy, imprecise work in the roundpen. And when I say "imprecise" I'm being generous. Sure, I'm into modern, gentle schooling methods. By nature and inclination, I'm not a violent horse, but I admit to having lost my temper a couple of times. Basically, I had to find a way of getting it into his head that a horse is a force to be reckoned with. So, sure, on a couple of occasions, I did have to lay the law down. Like the time I charged him out of the roundpen, eyes on fire and ears tight back. That impressed him mightily, and he came back with an altogether different attitude, altogether more credible. No horse wants a wishy-washy rider who doesn't know where he's going; that's something he had to learn. I'll always remember my first mare (renowned trainer of humans) telling me how humans are not exactly gentle in their dealings with each other, and how you've sometimes got to act like a human if you want results: "think human", she said. Same thing with the bit: if I tossed him gently onto the ground the first time he pulled too hard, it was entirely for his own good. I'm a tolerant horse myself, but if ever he did that with a tough young Arabian he could get into very serious trouble. The first lesson in pedagogy (equine or human) is "one little step at a time". That's another lesson he had to learn the hard way. To cut things short, I persevered. Yes, there were times I felt like giving up. One day, after a particularly clumsy roundpen session the day before, I made him chase me round the grounds all morning before I'd let him catch me. I was testing his determination: I'll cooperate, but only if I think it's worthwhile. If a rider's not determined to make the partnership work, it can't possibly work, and under those conditions, I'm just not interested. Miraculously -step by step- it's working. He learned to steer, to walk, to trot and to canter. I made him wait a good long time before I'd let him canter in circles: no sense in hurrying things. Today, he's starting to learn the basics of some fancy sideways stuff. And we've even jumped a few fences. He'll never be a great horseman, but I'm well on the way to pulling off that absurdly ambitious challenge I set myself, and that's really very rewarding. |
Cheval Magique – Le Couleil, 09000 Cos – 06 62 55 07 33 – paul@cheval-magique.com