The First Few Days

Mustangs are born in the wild. If they are lucky, they remain in the wild. But the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) manages the wild herds in herd management areas (HMAs) all around the western US. This management includes controlling the size of the wild herds by rounding up some of them, as is deemed necessary, and then keeping them holding facilities until the horses are adopted. While in a holding facility, a mustang’s only contact with humans is seeing them walking around outside the holding pen fence, or chutes, and on rare occasions seeing them closer up when them come inside the pens to deal with veterinary issues, or take pictures for upcoming BLM auctions.  

Songwe was two years and half years old when he came to me. And, from what I can tell, he was handled very little. Most of his social interactions were with other horses, both when he was running free in the Great Divide Basin of Wyoming, and then in the holding facility in Colorado. Horses are often the best teachers of other horses, when it comes to learning social skills. However, it doesn’t teach them much about how to interact with humans, who in their eyes are predators. 

I figure that prior to his arriving in North Carolina, Songwe had five primary interactions with humans, all negative: 1) when he was rounded up and captured as a foal, 2) when he was branded, 3) when he was castrated, and 4) when he was given vaccines, and blood testing to prep him for interstate transport, and 5) when he was loaded on a truck and sent East. Given those interactions, I am pretty sure that in his mind humans were no fun at all.  

Songwe Getting Used to His New Digs

So my first few weeks with Songwe involved trying to prove that I wasn’t going to kill him. And quite honestly, having never been around mustangs before, I really wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hurt me. There is a lot of negative lore out there about mustangs, mostly spread by people who don’t know a damn thing about them…they’re untamable, crazy, killers, not trustworthy, stubborn broomtails. So Songwe and I spent a substantial amount of time during our first few days together sizing each other up, and quietly observing each others movements.  

Now there are people out there who would choose to take a rough approach to training a mustang, one that involves wrangling it and breaking its spirit. But, to me, taking time to build trust and respect is the best way to develop a solid foundation on which I can start training Songwe to do the kinds of things I would like to eventually do with him, like riding quietly down a trail, jumping small fences, dancing in a dressage arena, and maybe even rounding up cattle. I want a partner, not a robot with a broken spirit. 

When Songwe first arrived, he came with two mustang mares, adopted by my friend, Chelsea. All three horses shared a paddock. So during the first few days, Darrell, Chelsea, and I, and a couple of Chelsea’s friends would enter the paddock with wads of green grass in hand, offering human kindness. We approached the three horses slow and steady, often crouching down so that we’d seem less threatening to them. It became a sort of dance…approach, kneel, offer grass, retreat. Approach, kneel, offer, retreat. Approach… retreat.  Over and over. Never putting too much pressure on the horses. 

Songwe and the Mares

At first Songwe was nervous and suspicious. As the youngest member of the little herd, he clung to the two mares as they moved around the paddock. But then every now and then, he’d approach tentatively and stretch out his neck as far as he could to take the luscious green grass from my outstretched hand. Then he’d quickly retreat to several yards away. And so would I. Gradually, he’d come in an inch or two closer, and stay a few extra seconds after taking the grass, before retreating. At this point, I added a tiny condition… I would hold back the offering in exchange for a quick touch to his head. He decided to tolerate this. Then over the next few days, those touches became rubs to his forehead. And then to his nose, and his neck. 

After about 3 or 4 days, I could stand near Songwe at the hay trough, curry and brush him, and comb out his tangled mane while he quietly munched his hay. Sometimes, while I rubbed him, he would nibble on one of the mare’s necks and we’d form a daisy chain of rubbing. But the moments were brief, and even just a little too much pressure from me would send him walking off to the other side of the paddock, with the two mares by his sides. But it was progress. Pretty damn cool progress. The amazing thing is that I never saw one iota of aggression from any of the three horses.

Songwe and Chelsea

It wasn’t long before the three mustangs grew used to the small cadre of humans who would come to visit, rub, and groom them each day. They gradually let us rub their legs, pick up their feet, and slip ropes quietly around their necks. Songwe even allowed one of Chelsea’s friends to apply antibacterial ointment to the scratches on his fetlocks. There she was, kneeling down right beside a wild mustang, who trusted her enough to let her help him. The horses were always very careful around us, never offering to bite or kick, never an ear laid back. Not even once. Mustangs are actually better behaved than many domesticated horses I have known, who often grow spoiled and disrespectful as a direct result of their human handlers. 

Standing among the wild ones is a privilege. These last few weeks, feeling their breath on my skin, and their manes softly tickling my face, has given me an overwhelming sense of peace. It sure beats any other therapy you can imagine.

Approach and retreat. 

Trust and respect. 

And love. 

Photos Courtesy of Chelsea Cloutier, Cloutier Studios