I’m glad horses are of a forgiving nature. Almost like a dog, a horse seems to forgive and forget the occasional lapse we humans tend to have when things don’t go just so.

I had one of those episodes not too long ago. I was out with a bunch of friends for a trail ride down in the San Rafael Swell area in Utah. Because trail rides are such good experience for a green horse, I took my new boy J Golden along. My plan was to pony him along for part of the ride, then switch saddles and ride him while ponying my seasoned mare, Lizzy.

When I went to load him into the trailer to head out to the meeting place, J didn’t want to get in. I worked with him for a while, but had no luck.  He set his feet and wouldn’t budge. I tried various techniques I have seen used with success, including the pressure-release method and the make-’em-back-up-fast-then-walk-forward technique, then I tried the loooooong lead rope looped through the tie loop, then passed back outside, so I could be behind “encouraging” him method. I even tried longeing him. No joy.

Anyway, a neighbor saw me working with him and asked if I needed a hand. Fact was, I was getting behind and was late on my departure to meet up with my traveling partner. I accepted the help gratefully. The neighbor brought his trusty longeing whip as a training tool.  My previous experience with J indicated that with me in front of him coaxing and with another person behind just casually swinging a rope and clapping, he would walk right in. That’s what happened when I bought him.

However, this time it wasn’t so. He simply did not want to get into that trailer and had set his mind against it. It took some pretty good pulling and several pretty good whacks on the rump with the whip to convince him it was safer in the trailer than outside. He got in and away we went. I was pretty pleased, actually, because my experience also said that just a couple more times and he would be calmly walking into the trailer like the rest of my horses.

We went on the trip and spent a good evening with friends in camp that night. When morning came and it was time to load up for the trail ride, I again had a tough time getting J into the trailer. With the help of a couple friends and a couple good whacks with the end of a lead rope, we got him into the trailer.

The ride was nice. For the first half of the day I rode Lizzy, then at lunchtime I swapped my saddle to J’s back. I was very pleased with how he handled. He was a bit difficult at first, wanting only to follow Lizzy, not lead her, but after a mile or so he settled down and the rest of the ride was pleasant. We worked on his reining and other commands as we went along. I think we both enjoyed the ride.

After about 12 miles or so, the trail ended at my truck and trailer. The plan was for me to load my horses and a couple others and shuttle drivers back to their trucks and trailers, so they could come back and pick up their horses and companions.

So, here we are, tired horses, tired riders, looking forward to a relaxed evening around the camp. All I had to do was load my horses. Wouldn’t you know that again, J wouldn’t get in the trailer. Being tired and with everyone waiting on me, I lost patience with J and I started trying to use more force to get him into the trailer. I tried using some of the same techinques that hadn’t worked before, and even those that had worked before, but my patience was gone. Poor old J was scared of me and scared of the trailer. I am sure he sensed my impatience and anger and that increased his excitement and fear.

In both horses and men, when emotion increases thought processes decrease. Both J and myself were perfect verification of that.

Luckily, there were a couple of my riding friends there, who are also much better trainers than I, who asked if they might give things a try. Seeing as I was not getting anywhere with J, I handed his lead rope to them. After a few minutes of unsuccessful effort, it was decided that I should go ahead and take what I had and shuttle the drivers, so we could get things rolling. We would try again with J when I got back.

On the way over to the trucks, I apologized to those with me for my lapse of patience, as well as for the delay. In all honesty, I had no idea I was going to have so much trouble with J loading into the trailer or I would not have brought him. I thanked them for their patience and help and I truly appreciated it.

After dropping off the drivers, I returned to camp with a couple others and dropped them and the horses there, then headed back to pick up J and help return others to camp. Surprisingly, one of the returning drivers waved me down and told me he already had J loaded in his trailer and all the horses had been picked up.

So, I returned to camp disappointed in myself. I lost patience with my horse. As a trainer, that is something that should not happen. I placed myself and my horse in a position that was not conducive to training – both of us tired and impatient, with a bunch of tired riders waiting for us to get something done and without the option of just not doing it that day – and then I lost patience when things didn’t go well. I let factors outside the task at hand influence my judgment and technique. I made matters worse, rather than better. In the end, it was a good day of training for me. Not so good for the horse.

I was also disappointed that I was not there to see how the other trainer was able to coax J into the trailer. Whatever he did is something I need to learn. I know those two friends, father and son, are far better trainers than I and I wish I had been there to learn from them.

Still, I did learn. Or, maybe I re-learned, that impatience is anathema to training and that putting myself and my horse in a poor training circumstance led to a poor training experience for us both.

A wise man once said, “When you make a mistake, all is not lost. You can always be used as a good example of a bad example.”

Ultimately, J is now loading and unloading in my trailer reliably, although he still hesitates. Each time he gets better about it. I have taken the time to work with him under much more favorable conditions for training. Since that day, I have been able to coax him into the trailer with a slack lead rope, using only the pressure of his knowing what I want him to do and the hope of a reward of a handful of sweet feed in the feed bin once he gets in.

The Apostle Paul once said that faith, hope, and charity are the virtues that make us the persons we should be. I think maybe in training horses the three great virtues might be firmness, consistency, and patience…but the greatest of these is patience.

Thankfully, J seems to have forgiven me. He’s a very friendly and level-headed horse. There isn’t a mean bone in him. I think he’ll be the kind of horse, eventually, that I can trust to take care of my grandkids.