How To Catch Your Horse

When Roux first came to me, he couldn't be caught. Now there's a funny phrase right there, 'can't catch my horse', as though we are fishing for them with bait or chasing after them with a net. I don't know about you, but I think of my horses as my children (and now I am thinking of the child catcher from 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'!... goodness, what if our horses saw us like that?!), but if I had two actual children, I wouldn't run around after them trying to 'catch' them. 'Catching your horse' can mean several different things, and ideally I would rather not have to go to the inconvenience of chasing, sneaking up on or coaxing him, I'd rather he willingly came to me or at least allowed me to simply walk up to him and put on his headcollar, but for the sake of convenience I will stick to the term 'catch'.

I came to the realisation some time ago that if I can't catch my horse, it is because he neither trusts nor respects me (and when I say respect I don't mean fear, because hmm, if he feared me then he probably wouldn't trust me!). Personally, I believe being able to catch your horse in from the field is one of the most basic/important foundational steps in working with that horse. To the extent that I see no point continuing the training of a horse who I cannot catch in from the field safely and calmly until we have overcome that first step. Your journey with a horse is a bit like a staircase made up of many small, individual steps... if you skip building the important steps, you are likely to have a pretty wobbly staircase later on. Isn't it worth taking more time earlier to save a lot of time later?

I keep both my boys at pasture 24/7 and one of the first things I naively did with Roux the day he first arrived was attempt to remove his headcollar. Being as touchy as he is, he panicked as soon as he felt pressure on his poll and he bolted away from me. From that moment on, he associated me with that one instance and wouldn't come near me (unless I had a feed-bucket and even then, tentatively). Roux was a conundrum to me for a little while. I was working every day with Alfie, who is a happy-go-lucky sort of chap (irresistible bit of anthropomorphism there), and while we were making great progress together, I always felt a frustration in the back of my mind about Roux. I had tried coaxing him with food and had managed to clip a long line to his headcollar on a couple of occasions. I'd been very excited that I'd finally caught him and had done some work with him, but after the second time I realised that he was only responding out of fear and it broke my heart a little because that wasn't how I wanted him to see me. I decided that if he was to work willingly with me, it would have to be on both our terms; he would have to choose to accept being caught. I disposed of all ropes and resolved to use only myself and what knowledge I had.

I know I'm making this sound like a huge deal but it really was for me (and here's a shout out to all those who have the same problem, I know how frustrating it can be!)... And it wasn't just me; anyone who tried to approach him, he wouldn't let within 5 feet of him most of the time. I decided to use one consistent method and stick to it daily in the hope that he would come around.

So I began by looking at him. And then walking slowly and non-threateningly toward him. Non-threatening in this case meant head down, hands in pockets, shoulders slumped and walking sideways or backwards toward him with no equipment in hand, and pausing for a minute every two steps I took. Even this apparently posed too much of a threat for Roux however, which he confirmed by walking away in the opposite direction as soon as I entered his comfort zone. I had no round pen or arena and was working with Roux in an open acre of pasture. When he walked away, I immediately changed my body language and actively asked him to walk away from me. The reasoning behind this is that it would allow me to clearly incorporate negative reinforcement (see my last post) when he eventually turned in my direction because then I could reward and encourage that exact action by lowering my energy at the same moment. This was NOT chasing my horse around a field until he was so exhausted that he submitted. Neither was it a punishment for walking away. It was just a simple training principle being put to use in a big, spacious field. In simple terms, I was giving Roux a choice between two options: 1) allowing me to approach (slowly - it is only fair to make it as manageable an option as possible for him) or 2) moving away from me (not stopping to eat or relax).

He walked away from me and then he trotted away and he didn't stop for a long while, but there was a moment where he looked toward me. THAT was the moment I stopped. I stopped and transformed my body language back to that of the moody teenager (excuse the analogy), hands in pockets, head down, slumped shoulders. This was my use of negative reinforcement - rewarding his desired behaviour (looking toward me) by removing the unpleasant stimulus (my advance toward him). Of course, then he stopped too. I would like to say it was happily ever after from there, but there is rarely a 'quick fix' with horses and I was going to have to continue this process for a few weeks. I remember Roux high-tailing it away from me as I got too close sometimes, cantering around and around the field, taking Alfie with him, and I would calmly chase him away in accordance until he thought about changing his mind, in which case so would I. Gradually, his escapades became slower and less frequent. He would allow me to come nearer before he moved away and his circles around me became smaller and smaller. He learned that each time he looked toward me I stopped and before long he was looking in at me and we were stopping instantaneously. It became a bit like a dance, both reacting to each other in a predictable way. I believe that is one of the keys to good horsemanship - consistency. Roux learned that I was consistent and began to trust that if he was looking toward me, I would become non-intrusive, simple as that. The breakthrough came when he allowed me to walk calmly up to him and stroke his neck. For that, I was grateful and I showed this by simply walking away, satisfied. I wanted him to know that just because I went up to him and stroked him didn't mean I expected anything of him. He started showing signs of relaxation while I was near him, such as sighing and the 'licking and chewing' motion, which showed me he was beginning to truly accept my presence, such a difference from the tense and frightened manner he'd had previously. Eventually my walking toward him was no longer an 'unpleasant stimulus' and I began to instead use positive reinforcement to encourage him in his training.

These tiny little steps created the foundation of our journey's 'staircase'. We have never stopped building and now Roux comes over to me when I call his name. I don't know if you'd call that catching ... to me, it feels more like we've captured each other's hearts.