Acting Out
The time came to wean Clementino. I gave him his own stall and gradually reduced the number of times per day he could nurse from his mom, whom we'd fondly dubbed the Dairy Queen.
One morning I went out, still half asleep, to feed the horses. I opened the gate to Clementino's stall so he could go inside the Dairy Queen's stall and nurse. He ran across the aisle. I raced behind him to open the Dairy Queen's stall door. But he assumed I was racing him for his momma's teat, so he kicked out behind at me to make sure he got there first. His hoof whacked me solidly in the chin, spreading pain instantly to my eardrums.
At first I thought my jaw was broken, but it was only jolted, and I had a cut in my chin that wouldn't stop bleeding. My boss commended me for showing up to work that day, changing ban-dages during breaks to stem the bleeding.
As Clementino reached 400 pounds, he became more disrespectful and aggressive. When he became confused or angry about a correction during groundwork exercises, he'd rear up on his hind legs and try to strike me with his front ones. He also took delight in nipping.
Time for Help
It soon became past time to teach Clementino to trailer load. For months, I'd tried to load him without success; he refused to step inside. The tide turned when the woman who trims my horses' hooves asked a trainer friend, Amy Bourk, to join her at my house to help me. They loaded my colt in 15 minutes.
Impressed by Amy's skills, I asked whether she could give me a couple of handling lessons. Soon, she had me ponying Clementino from Alegro, without the colt trying to jump on me or the horse. Clementino also started respecting me in the round pen and walking obediently beside me on a lead line.
The colt's best lesson occurred as we were walking him away from the barn. Clementino's attention wandered, and Amy sharply backed him up as a reprimand; it caused him to back into a four-foot-high cholla cactus. His rump and back legs covered in spines and chunks of stinging cactus, Clementino had a fit.
I thought Amy would ask me to run home for a comb and pliers to remove the offending cactus. Instead, she corrected the colt for panicking and made him keep walking. When we finally got back home, it took a half hour to pluck out the cactus.
Since Amy was also familiar with Anderson's techniques, she gave me great feedback on how well I was replicating them with my colt. I told her how helpful that was: to watch the videos, then receive hands-on coaching from her.
Amy emphasized that good athletes are always improving themselves: the best sports players have coaches and the best horse trainers occasionally work with others to hone their skills and learn new ones.
Now almost 8 months old, Clementino was recently castrated. Here's hoping that sqeulching testosterone, along with ongoing training, will soon make Clementino a joy to be around and will form a solid foundation for a future trail horse.
