Owning my business sometimes involves much too much time, in my estimation, focusing on “cash flow,” and to be able to get out of the city and appreciate the world that God created for our pleasure brings an element of balance and clarity to my life for which I’m so grateful.
I think about those things a lot when Alamo and I are out on the trails. For me, it’s important to be intentional about appreciating the good things in my life, lest I lose sight of them in the craziness, and the opportunity in Bosque County ranks pretty high on my list.
In that vein, I’ve realized some lessons I’ve learned out on the trails that translate pretty well to the city streets.
1. Horses are “fight or flight” animals. In the animal kingdom, each species is equipped with its own defense mechanism. Horses don’t have any ability to defend themselves except to flee. When a horse is frightened or threatened, his only thought is to save himself. A rider on his back is not part of the equation because he is only focused on escaping to safety.
The human species is much the same. We all act in a way that makes sense to us. The rest of the crowd is so busy judging others as right or wrong, crazy or sane, that we don’t often view things from another’s perspective.
2. Plan your ride, but be prepared for anything. Horses are herd animals, and smart ones at that. Within the herd, they establish a pecking order, and one horse emerges as the dominant one. When Alamo first came to the ranch, every time I rode him I would find bite marks or scuffs on his hide where he had been kicked. As I watched, he developed a strategy: keep a distance, make friends with others, and put on some pounds to hold his own.
We humans need to employ some strategy, too. Although we like to think that if we do all the right things we’ll live a good life, life doesn’t always get on board. People are irregular, jobs aren’t ideal, money is lost, marriages are difficult, illnesses aren’t curable. If we keep sight of the idea that curve balls often turn out to be hits, too, we can develop the skills to deal with the pecking order.
3. Put in the time on the basics. No matter how well trained a horse is, he still has to be reminded that you, the rider, are the one giving him direction. Otherwise, he assumes he’s in charge. So before a ride, it is essential to spend some time working in the arena or pen, reminding him of the cues you use to communicate, and how he is to use his manners and defer to your direction.
Alamo is a thoroughbred/quarter horse mix, and so he is a little bit “hot,” as they say in the horse world. He’s got some natural energy, or fire. In the winter, it is harder for him to keep weight on as a thoroughbred than it is for quarter horses. A couple of winters ago, the ranch foreman separated him from the other horses in order to give him some high protein supplements and extra alfalfa. After a month or so of living the life of Riley, we headed to the barn to get ready for a ride.
He hates arena work, and truth be told, I find it quite boring as well. So we did it for about three minutes, and headed out. He was frisky,and since it was a nice cool day, I didn’t think too much about it. We headed down a path to cross a ravine, and as we started up the other side, Alamo took off up the hill in a full gallop. I know that to slow a horse who is not responding you pull a rein to one side to turn him, because he can’t run in a circle so that slows him. But the path was too narrow for that, so I didn’t have that option. At the top of the hill, Alamo started bucking like a rodeo bronc, and before I knew what was happening, I was laid out on Bosque County dirt. If pain hadn’t been uppermost in my consciousness, I would have been a proud rebellious equine mama (maybe). After I caught my breath, I caught sight of Alamo standing a few yards away, looking at me as if to say, “What are you doing there on the ground?”
There is always a price for cutting corners, often a painful one. Enough said.
