And Smart, to Boot
I've said before that the "complete" trail horse is the ultimate equine generalist. More important than build, size, or gait, is a disposition that can handle a variety of situations safely.
Much competence comes from training, but, as they say, there must be something between a horse's ears, as well.
Equine intelligence is hard to measure, but I'd have to rank Little Mack high on any scale I can contrive.
Once, while preparing for a supply run to Billings, Montana, 60 miles away, I noticed Little Mack standing near a barbed-wire fence some distance away. I paid little attention, though I remember thinking his posture was a little unusual.
We made our trip, some four or five hours away from the ranch. It was only while unloading groceries and supplies that I noticed the horse was standing in the same place, in the same position. Alarmed, I rushed to the scene.
What I saw made me sick. Little Mack was astride the barbed-wire fence, his front legs on one side, his rear on the other. He had pressed the top wire down until it was tight as a violin string. "Whoa," I whispered, sick at heart, already cursing myself for driving away that morning without checking on him.
But there was nothing sad or distressed about him. His look seemed to say, "Well, it's about time you got here."
The horse froze while I took out my Leatherman tool, snipped the top wire, then the second, and then the third, all the while steadying him with one arm to discourage his moving forward. I looked at the ground for the dreaded pool of blood, but saw nothing.
The snipped fence now low enough, Little Mack casually stepped over the remaining wires, stood beside me for a moment, and then began to graze.
I knelt down to look at the bottom of his chest, just at the cinch line, sure I'd see a nasty gash, that I'd be calling Bill, our vet. But there was nothing. No cut, no gash, not even hair removed! Little Mack had stood for the entire time we were gone, straddling a barbed-wire fence, and had known not to move until I arrived to help! Lesser horses would have ripped themselves to shreds.
Now, at age 16, Little Mack is a little less flexible in the legs when I first get on him, but then, I'm not as flexible as I used to be, either. He's still my "go-to" guy when a tough trail is in the works. Last fall, we again rounded up the cattle alone. Fully described, his antics would fill a book. Maybe they will someday.
Happy trails!
Dan Aadland (http://my.montana.net/draa) raises mountain bred Tennessee Walking Horses and gaited mules on his ranch in Montana. His most recent books are The Best of All Seasons, The Complete Trail Horse, and 101 Trail Riding Tips. Sketches from the Ranch: A Montana Memoir is now available in a new Bison Books edition.
