Spooky horses! There must be a lot of them, as more people write in about shying and general jumpiness, than just about anything else. The biggest problem with these guys is that they are very good at undermining our confidence, chipping away at it, bit by bit….
Human nature has us wanting to protect spooky horses by carefully controlling the environment so that they don’t go off the edge. This is akin to trying to sneak by the sleeping giant. You can never let your guard down and when something does get by your careful screening, his wheels will fly right off.
So, what to do?
Any horse with a pulse can shy out when surprised. While some horses might have physical problems that feed into this – sore backs or poor eyesight, for example – most horses with this behaviour just have a fear-based make-up. If you add high energy to their lack of bravado, you’re in for a wild ride!
Many spooky horses are also manipulative; they’ll get you dealing with a shy, rather than putting them to work. Any sort of a reaction from you invites them, too, to react. “You scared me!” Sound familiar?
Because wrapping them up in cotton and trying to force the world around you to not make sudden moves or noise almost guarantees failure, the only thing left is to desensitize them. You can explore different techniques, such as flooding them with stimuli or taking part in bombproofing clinics, but one method that works well for me is to simply step off and start doing chores.
I’ll put a rope halter on the horse, one he’ll not tow me around with, along with a long rope lead. Now, this is important: I’ll check his respect for my personal space, making sure he steps back whenever I face him, as well as teaching him how much ‘bubble’ I need to be content. I don’t want to get run over just because this guy doesn’t like the looks of my garden hose.
Then, I just go to work.
I might roll the wheelbarrow out to pick pens or tidy the arena, letting the horse trail along with me on a slack lead rope. We might rake gravel off the lawn, or water plants, or pick rocks, or sweep the aisle.
Point is, by putting my focus on the job at hand, I take a lot of pressure off my horse. I always know where he is behind me, so that I can stay safe but I won’t worry too much if he’s not liking what I’m doing. I’ll just keep chugging along.
Changing direction, chatting away, making strange sounds, puttering about, he learns to follow me and not get stressed out by things he doesn’t necessarily like or understand. If he starts crowding me, I won’t get too bugged by it; I’ll just change direction and go back to work.
This sounds really stupid but it’s worked wonders for years, including with herdbound behaviours… and I don’t have to wish I was a better bronc rider or a horse whisperer, to boot. Often, the process takes as little as an hour or so, before I start seeing a big improvement in how he handles scary stuff, both on the ground and when I ride.
By simply plugging away at a few of the endless little jobs that pile up around every farm, I lose track of my frustrations and training woes, I forget about watching the clock and looking for improvement… and my horse learns to enjoy being part of an elite team that gets things done.
Back in the saddle again…
All of this is building a good foundation to get your spooky horse working well under saddle. As I said earlier, spooking is a very effective tool that a horse can use to undermine his rider’s confidence. Many horses are intelligent enough to use a good spook as a way to avoid going to work.
Sometimes, we can unwittingly exacerbate a horse’s lookiness by stopping and petting him when he is scared. We’ll say, “Easy now, it’s okay,” and calm him, rather than simply ignoring the undesirable behaviour and continuing with our work. If this is us, it won’t be long before our horse will figure out that a spook actually brings comfort, while being a good guy and just going to work, does not.
Know that a spooky horse is on constant vigilance about what might set him off. Windy, chilly weather will only up his game. If I’m wanting to build confidence and the horse is really reactive, such days I will saddle up and work from the ground. Correct lungeing is a favourite tool of mine. He’ll get huffing and puffing – heck, so will I – but we relax, knowing that I won’t be stepping on until the going is good. If the horse is working calmly on the lunge, even if the weather is stormy, I might reconsider riding him and give him the chance to shine.
So many horses shy because they are protected from Real Life. Let me explain this. They live in stalls, they go out to tiny turnout pens. They work in the indoor arena. Like the movie, ‘Groundhog Day’, it is the same ol’ thing, day in, day out. What we can do to help a jumpy horse is to turn him out in a real herd situation for weeks or months, including overnight. He’ll have to travel to graze and get water, he’ll have to negotiate terrain and learn the social intracacies of the herd. So often, this reality check helps.
Allied to this is the notion of always ‘riding safe’. What I mean by this is that if I have a looky horse, I have to be mindful about giving him a lot to look at! This might mean building up our relationship enough that we can start going on trail rides. I’ll make sure that someone is with me on a calm, well-behaved mentor horse. Maybe I’ll join a Cowboy Challenge group and without having any huge hopes of being competitive – without worrying about the time factor – I’ll start working the obstacles.
One thing I’d like to say that isn’t perhaps politically correct is this. A tired horse tends to be a solid, safe horse. A horse that just isn’t being ridden actively enough, often enough, will be a handful. Sometimes we have to ride our horses every day just to get them sweating and feeling the need for rest. I know, this isn’t easy but all too often, it’s the most straightforward fix.
When we go out of our way to scare our horses… they usually start learning to cope.
I’ll repeat that we have to be very, very careful that we do not reward the wrong stuff. When the horse spooks or shies, there will be no talking or petting. We just calmly, quietly continue our physical work.
Finally, I have to ask myself if I am doing anything to encourage my horse to be spooky? Am I so careful around him that he is buying in to the notion that he is insane? That he doesn’t have the essential coping tools that other, smarter horses do? If this sounds familiar, a course in desensitizing our horses might be a good plan. I’ll make sure that I stomp around while doing chores… I’ll jump up and down… I’ll drag the shovel and rake around on the cement… I’ll rustle my coat… the ideas to grow his courage are endless.
I won’t stop doing the above mentioned things until he shows that he accepts them. I will know this by the way he stands with a hip cocked… or by his sneezing, head shaking, sighing… or when he licks his lips and chews. These reactions all signal that he has accepted the fact that I will not hurt him. This is a hugely important step. If he is still upset, still reactive, I will keep on with my behaviour. I will not increase it or decrease it, I will simply continue until he understands.
The benefit of this training is that we can teach him to spook in one spot. That he will not gain anything from checking out of Dodge or forgetting all of his schooling. He will learn that when he stops, drops his head and chews, the scary stuff usually stops. This is a very good lesson for any horse.
If I am riding a reactive horse in an arena with a ‘scary spot’ – and you know the ones, right? – I will make sure that I do not punish him for shying out. I see this so often but know that doing so will only give him a logical reason to act afraid! Neither will we stop him working by petting and fussing over him. Again, what I will do is keep him on the job.
I will have him work very vigorously where he likes to be, gradually working my way nearer and nearer the trouble spot. I will keep him working hard, usually loping or cantering and only when he is doing well, will he be allowed to walk. If he wants to scoot away, he goes back to work at the strong canter. I’ll give him another chance in a minute or two. We’ll repeat this being offered a rest and being asked to work if he says no.
It may take a while. I may have to get really brave and hang on! Almost always, however, he will figure out that if he wants the chance to pull more air into his lungs, he will have to stop clowning around. We will rest in the bad place. We may even stop while I get off and loosen his cinch. This last step is a great way to end a regular schooling day or lesson, by ending in the place where our horse is least at home.
So much of what we do day to day will affect our spooky, shying horse.
He may never, ever grow really brave. If we show him that we are always to be trusted… that we are worthy leaders… that we are not easily fooled… our horse can learn to cope. I will mention, however, that if you are a nervous rider, one who lacks confidence, this type of horse is not your best match. In my experience, it is very hard to fight fear with fear. You may need to build your own confidence up with a different, less reactive horse. You may have to send your spooky horse for professional training, then come together with him for lessons. You may even have to send him down the road to a rider who is not so reactive, or for a sport that offers repitition, rather than adventure. Bottom line, keeping a shying horse is not ideal when neither of you is having fun.
Thanks for following the Keystone blog. If you’re enjoying the stories, please subscribe with the red button on our home page. Thanks for commenting and riding along. Finally, I’d love to hear your experiences with spooky horses… what worked to help and what didn’t! The first time you comment, you will have to give your email and sign up but ever after, it will be easier. Cheers for now, Lee.
That was very helpful! Thank you!
I’m glad, Sandra. Thank you and I hope that reading this post will be of some use. Cheers, Lee.
Good solid advice Lee. You have a gift for clear, easy to understand advice . I always enjoy reading your blog
High praise, indeed. Jackie, I’m so grateful when you read and weigh in. Thank you for that! Cheers, Lee.
True, every word, especially the last paragraph about the fearful rider and that was me. It was out of desperation that I moved my horse on and it was the best decision I could have made for my horse too. I got her some training to help her out of the rut we were in and wow, did she ever shine, a different rider was able to pull out all of her good qualities and discover training I didn’t know she even had and imagine that, no spooks! I can’t even put into words how good it feels to have stopped the vicious circle that was happening.
Diana, the lesson we learn about fighting fear with fear is always a hard one. I’m so glad that you’ve made it through the other side by finding your horse a trainer and new situation… and without you, yourself, getting hurt. Here’s to continuing on your riding journey with a more suitable partner! Cheers, Lee.
You have just described my day yesterday to a “T”. Bathing the 18 year old “needed a home” gelding, acquired in January, and the barn owner starts mowing right outside the wash rack – lots of noise. The gelding exploded badly enough I put my regular lead on and took him out of the cross ties and then we worked on staying in the wash rack. I knew his initial fright had subsided because he was aware of me and his surroundings – especially when he reached out and boxed the manure shovel hanging on the wall with his nose several times, but he still “acted scared” and kept trying to get out of the wash rack. I use a rope halter and every time he wanted to charge forward he got a sharp yank on the halter. He tromped on the manure bucket, the hose, punched the shovel, etc. It was a temper tantrum but he knew exactly what he was doing. Unfortunately, it irritated the ulcer we just learned about and he began to act painful. Finished the bath in the cross ties and rather than take him out to graze (reward) I pulled up a stool and sat in the aisle and he was “tied” to me. He was able to move his feet but he could not leave or go behind me. He was just about settled, had even gaped and yawned a few times, and the barn owner came in and started to feed. Game over. I had run out of time and had to get home. I gave him his ulcer meds and put him in his stall. He was very agitated again, now waiting for night turnout. So today, we start again. The barn owner thinks he needs to be tied up and left by himself for several hours. I am having trouble with that form of training due to the presence of the ulcer and that he is having surgery tomorrow for melanomas inside his sheath. Seems a bit like making the child sit in the corner because they have a fever. I still believe that patience and perseverance will bring him around and I attempt to keep my reactions matching his energy output. It is tiring but it will be worth it in the end.
Leslie, we learn SO much from the horses with a bit of a past! It also highlights to me the differences between training when we are on our own, vs when we are at a barn shared with others. Hang in there. Cheers, Lee.
My young horse shied on a trail ride and dumped me on my butt (I’m sure I bounced!). The group I was riding with caught him and I made sure I rode him the rest of the way (my legs were shaky and my backside hurt, but I got back in the saddle). A kind soul offered me his safe horse that he was ponying while He was riding a different horse but I couldn’t let my horse learn to shy and dump me and just walk back without a rider. I’m proud of myself for doing that.