Trust and training - Roanie

A long, lanky just-turned 3 year old filly came in with last spring's string.  She was foundation bred quarter horse with a lot of old speed blood and had that deep bay, almost blue roan coloring that people go crazy over.  She still had the coltish, not-quite grown into her legs look.

She was bred and raised by a local breeder.  The trainer he had on staff wanted nothing to do with her; had deemed her crazy and sent her to one of the local cowboy colt-breakers.  After 30 days, the breaker basically said she'd never be worth a thing, and they brought her home and turned her out, debating whether to spend more time and money or just call the local kill buyer and be done with her.

Since we were coming to pick up a number of his mares that were ready to break, Roanie came along with us.  From the beginning, she was personable.  She had a soft, kind eye, but she would tremble if you so much as brushed her too hard.  The boys rode her a few times and deemed her "too lazy to buck" - which is usually how I end up with 'my' string.  The lazy, the uncoordinated, the non-interested in cattle.  In the end, Roanie turned out to be none of these.

The first time I saddled Roanie, I knew it would be a long time, at least in a trainer's terms, before she was ready for a 'real' ride.  For the first week, we did round pen work, just lunging and ground driving, letting her relax while wearing the saddle.  The next ten days, I would get on and just sit.  It was like straddling a rocket.  She was so tense, no wonder they thought her lazy; to move out would've been to use every muscle she was bracing with.  She wasn't humped up like a horse that's thinking of bucking; this was more a fear of what was to come, a fear of yank and spur and ye-haw.  So, I would swing my leg over and sit and breathe.  If she wanted to step forward, we'd walk.   If not, we'd stand.  And, when she let out her big exhale, we'd be done for the day.  After a total of maybe two weeks of this, she was ready.  We'd walk and trot out in the open field.  We'd walk over and visit the cows across the fence.  And one day, we loped.  Free, easy and willing.  Her sensitivity made her incredibly responsive to leg, and while she was in her comfort zone, she learned incredibly quickly.