A reader writes: “HOW DO YOU CHOOSE YOUR NEW PROJECTS? Horses or ponies, what do you look for and what do you absolutely avoid?”
Before I begin, here’s the disclaimer. You need to know that I still buy mistakes.
I’m coming at horse-buying a little differently than many of you. I am not a breeder. I don’t have the stomach for it, preferring to put money out for a horse who has grown up sane with four straight legs. I’m also not looking for a futurity star, nor am I discipline-specific. I can buy a horse that I was hoping would make a trail riding horse and if he tells me that he’d rather be a driving horse, or a hunter, that’s cool. I can help him find his tribe.
I almost didn’t answer this question, let alone write a post about my horses. It’s a self-doubt, lack of confidence thing. You see, I’ve not bought and made a very large number of horses; it’s in the neighbourhood of only thirty, or so. Compared to the trainers who start hundreds, my little program doesn’t amount to much.
I do take some pride in the fact that I’ve seen something in these horses and ponies that others did not… something that could be brought out and made good. With a few exceptions, most of my gang have come to me, barely able to keep out of my space in the round pen, to being really lovely horses to ride.
These are animals that I’ve spotted from the side of the road, the auction ring and the online sales ad. They are usually halter-broke or poorly-started only and there must be something about them that makes me think I can make a positive change. They have to give me the feeling that they will finish out as honest, all-around workers.
I’m usually riding a horse that most people would walk right past. That is, until he gets knowing and liking his job. My horses aren’t superstars, they’re just regular folks like me. I’ll look at almost all breeds, from Quarter Horses and Paints, naturally… to registered Welsh Ponies and Heintz Fifty-Sevens. Some have come from genuinely caring and knowledgeable homes, while others haven’t had a darned thing going their way.
The poorest ones make up a little sideline for me. I call them the ‘hard luck’ crowd. Horses and ponies, these are the animals nobody wants… not nobody, not nohow. They have absolutely bottomed-out on life. If it’s humanly possible – along with the help of my vet and farrier – I’ll try and give them the tools they’ll need to turn their lives around. To be loved and get good jobs. Happily, most of them are able to get back in the game, with just a little help. They’re a grateful lot.
As you can imagine, the hard luck ponies are not money-makers. At best, they break even. But most importantly, when all goes well, they enhance my life. When it does not, there are tears and heartbreak and then, I shake myself off, dust myself down and try again. The hard luck ponies are my way of paying it forward in the horse business. Even though there’s a lot of emotion involved, these must still show evidence of correct conformation and good minds before I will bring them home and start riding….
Let’s get back to the other horses.
I’m looking for a useful mix of physical and mental, the horse who doesn’t veer from one ditch to the other… but stays in the middle ground. As I approach him, or glance at his picture, one thing alone tells me if I’ll be taking a closer look. If his rump is higher than his withers, he won’t be coming home with me.
There are a lot of horses out there – a lot of horses – standing downhill. Because I buy to train, then sell, I want those that have a world of opportunities open to them. When a horse isn’t built to push off from behind, to lighten his front end, career doors begin to close. This horse will never be as effortlessly balanced, as easy to bring on in a multitude of jobs, as the horse who’s built level or better yet, slightly uphill.
Secondly, I like a horse to have matching angles in his shoulder and hip. This is just another balance, ease of handling thing. I’m most interested in a horse who naturally trots and lopes with his muzzle held near the same height as the point of his shoulder. This horse is usually easy to ride for Western events, without a lot of ugly micromanaging. Horses with their muzzles held up closer to the level of their withers are usually better suited to English or Driving. These ‘upfront’ ones just naturally have a lot of presence, to my eye.
Next, I’m looking at legs and feet.
The phrase ‘a leg at each corner’ pretty much says it all. I don’t want the feet pointing every which way and the joints need to be straight, hard and free of puffiness. Feet and legs, we ignore at our own peril. There is a modern trend towards breeding beautiful horses with pony-sized feet. I’ve bought such horses because they were so perfect in every other way. Unfortunately, when they get working, they start feeling like we do after a long day in high heels. Our grandfathers used to say ‘no foot, no horse’ and it’s still good advice.
Up close, I’m looking at the horse’s eye. Another cliché, the eye tells all. I like a soft, dreamy pool of an eye with a pointed, triangular set to the lids. The lashes will be held in a relaxed drape across the eye, itself. Softness, acceptance, trust, love… all will be evident. I avoid – at all costs – the round eye that looks like black glass, or one with eyelids that appear tight. I just don’t get along with, nor trust, this sort of horse.
More and more, I’m looking at hair whorls, really being open to what they say. I want the same hair whorls to be on each side of the horse because symmetry is important in a trainable athlete. I also like the single, strong whorl that lies between the horse’s eyes, or even lower. Yes, I’ve had horses with two or more high swirls but I’m compelled to say that these mightn’t have been the simplest sorts. Are hair whorls just tales from the gypsy horse traders? I don’t think so. Modern science is now backing whorlology as a map of neurological development in the fetus.
I’ve had to learn that I don’t want mares. This has been a hard lesson because I’m a mare person but most amateur riders aren’t. Bottom line, broke mares don’t sell. My clients tell me that they’ve looked without luck to find good, safe horses and will pay dearly to get one… but what they’re really saying is, they want safe geldings.
I’ve also learned that I don’t want the horse who will shine in expert hands. Instead, I want to find the forgiving horse who will quietly take up a lot of the slack, one who will allow mistakes. I’ve learned that most of us don’t need the superstar.
I’m looking for projects, so…
I’m okay with those that are hard to catch or head shy, maybe won’t load or are not good with their feet.
I am wary of horses that can’t be brought out to ride alone. This points to herdboundness. While curable, it has a habit of rearing its head as soon as the horse changes hands. Spookiness is another trait I avoid, as it’s unnerving to ride. A spooky horse is always a hard horse to sell. If the handlers are being overly careful, slow and quiet, I know they’re afraid of letting the tiger out of the cage.
I also avoid horses known to pull back while tied. I’ll ask to see one tied up, while watching how his people are around him. Human body language tells me a lot! Not only is pulling tricky to fix, but these horses will often have chronic chiro issues in the poll, causing them to be overly moody and reactive.
I’m growing intuitive with owners, sellers and trial riders.
I’m learning to trust my gut. People show me as much about the horses they’re selling as do the horses, themselves. Are they trying too hard to appear emotionally connected to their horse? More telling, are they being too careful? Are they afraid? Fear almost has a smell to it and it’s a red flag to me when a seller is covering up. I then wonder, what has this horse done in the past? No matter who’s at fault, it becomes very much my problem if I buy him.
When I go to meet a horse, especially one from a buyer unknown to me, I want to see it ridden really actively if it’s advertised as a ‘going’ horse. Whatever the horse is claimed to know and do, I want to see it being done. If the seller won’t or ‘can’t’ get on, then I won’t either, although I used to.
I’m always looking for the manageable horse that just hasn’t been ridden much. If he’s a decent sort while on the back burner of life, he’ll be amazing, put into work. I’m looking for the horse who minds his manners without being in any program. The horse who’s being ridden five times a week isn’t going to improve in my hands… because he’s already doing his best. Worse, if he gets ridden any less, I mightn’t be able to handle him.
A horse sold as a ‘broke horse’ needs to feel solid.
If he’s older, there is only so much retraining he’s going to soak up in my hands. I pretty much need to like what I see and feel in a well-broke horse, right from the start. I’ll pay attention to how and where he’s being ridden, how much warm up he needs and what kind of bridle he’s in. I’ll watch and see how softly biddable he is, because submission is a mindset in a mature horse. I might be able to change him a bit but I probably can’t change him much.
One of the first things I’ll ask of a saddle horse is to see him ridden out across the fields or down the side of the road! If the rider says sure, happily, and they strike out at a trot or lope on a reasonably loose rein, windy or otherwise, I know the rider is not afraid. Even an unschooled horse, one with no knowledge of finishing or collection, will be a safe bet because he will be straightforward for me to finish. He will be a safe and enjoyable project for me to improve and eventually sell on.
While I’m keen to have a project, I keep Ego on a tight rein.
Just because I think I can fix him, it maybe isn’t a good idea to try. Time is money! I know, to the dollar, how much each of my horses annually costs to keep. I’m fortunate that my spouse has an off-farm job that looks to our household expenses and the mortgage. The farm business, however – all the horse stuff – the trucks and trailers, fuel, insurance, tires, feed and fencing, arena sand, tree trimming, gravel, vet and farrier bills, chiro and massage, show entries, memberships and registration, equipment, clothing, boots and chaps, tack, lessons, clinics and new horses… all must pay for themselves. My reality is that if I want to ride, my horses have to foot the bills.
Personally, I have to be careful as I’m always drawn to the horse that has had some time put on him but is a little messed up. I’m attracted to troubled bunnies… and it’s not always safe or possible to straighten them out. If I’m successful, I end up creating one-man horses, which are impossible to find homes for. If I fail, it’s been with those few that – without warning – simply flip their switches. I get into trouble with these guys because I’ll think they deserve a second chance. All uncommonly beautiful, I can never, ever sell them if they’ve shown they want to see me hurt. Providing a humane way out of their troubled, chaotic lives ends up being another added cost.
Time, when you’re buying and training, is always ticking. Two especially talented ones were here for five years or so, before they were ready to sell. I can’t keep on doing that. At the same time, I’m uncomfortable trying to ‘flip’ horses fast, simply because they all have something that shows up once the company manners have gone. How can I help them work through such issues, or stand by my guarantee, if I don’t know their secrets? I expect my horses to be here, on average, eighteen months. It’s usually longer. All this is at play when I consider my next project.
If I really like a horse, if he’s as good as was advertised, I won’t quibble on the price. If he’s a good horse, I can either swing him or I can’t. There’s no sense in low-balling people. If the horse is out of my league to begin with, I will not waste anyone’s time by going to see him. I will have asked his price, come to grips with it – yea or nay – during the first phone call. As a seller, I wish more people understood this. If a prospect has some holes in him that need filling, I’ll quietly make an offer and leave, let the sellers mull it over. I don’t think people should be rushed.
Any more, I have all pending purchases vetted, no matter their dollar value.
Even if they’re super cheap, they can’t work if they’re lame or have bad hearts. I’ve had to tell myself I’m not running a rescue. Included in this initial vetting are x-rays of the legs, along with blood work to disclose meds and testosterone. While I’ve unwittingly bought several cryptorchid geldings, I refuse to sell them as such and have found that abdominal castrations raise hell with my bottom line.
In the end, serendipity has played a surprising part in finding my best horses. I’ll be thinking of a certain friend or trainer and then, bingo, I’ll run into them at the grocery store. They’ll tell me about a nicely-bred horse that has fallen through the cracks, or an older horse that’s being sold to finance a new one. My ears perk up if I’m hearing this from someone I respect.
I’ll go see the horse and if he’s the right one, it’s easy and the money is usually there to buy him. If I’m fretting about scraping up funds, or even finding the time to go try him, I pay attention. Something, somehow, is telling me to hold off and wait.
Long story short, I have to crave owning this horse! The minute I start to find I’m talking myself into liking one, it’s time to walk away….