Last evening Miss Saffron, our second mustang from the wild, received her first ever hoof trim. She continues to astound me virtually every moment we’re together. I suppose because of our very different experience with Noelle. How was I to know that Miss Mouse, our little American Saddlebred rescue, would provide the key to the vast differences between these two wild horses.
Saffy has been with us barely six months and she (with very little help from me) has accomplished so much. Noelle has been with us almost four years and she has yet to have a single hoof trimmed. They are two very different mustangs, clearly with very different backgrounds in the wild. I’ve been lifting and cleaning Saffy’s feet for several weeks now, preparing her for introduction to the nippers and rasp last night, and sure enough she stood calmly, solid as a rock for our hoof specialist Mark Taylor.
Yesterday morning when I walked into the paddock where Saffy and Stormy spend the night, Saffy meandered toward me as she always does for her good morning rub and greeting. But she pulled up short when I was maybe six feet away and as I continued to approach she turned away with a huff and a puff, a signal I’ve grown very used to from Noelle. A signal indicating Oh my. There’s something new here! Something scary. Time to react first and ask questions later. Then I remembered I had a small Tupperware container in one hand (to fill with diatomaceous earth and take back to the house). I paused, talked to her a bit, held out the container and said Have a sniff. C’mon Saffy, have a sniff. She has learned the term during our evening No Agenda Time. On her first approach I say Give me a sniff Miss Saffy and she does. We exchange breaths.
On this morning she just stood for the longest, not looking away but not giving the container (or me) two eyes either. For maybe ten seconds. Then she turned and looked it right in the tupper. It didn’t bite her so, after a moment, she reached and sniffed the container, let out a breath, and it was over. I gave her a morning rub on the face, rubbed the container down her forehead, and proceeded to the tack room. Done.
Later that morning, I was feeding Noelle, our first mustang, in the round pen. The pocket of my treat/tool/med vest was bulging, unusually so, with several items I had just crammed into it, and it was therefore… different! This different pocket, which was always there, every morning and every evening, just not bulging so, touched Noelle’s face as I was reaching across her neck to scratch the off-side.
WHOA!
Gone.
That fast. A full roll back leaving her a good eight feet away from me. I reached down and held the horse-eating bulging pocket out to her, talking softly, asking her to have a sniff. But the closer the pocket got the father away she moved. She would have none of it. Zero.
Ultimately she came back but would not sniff the pocket. Every time I asked she would pull away again. No way. Not happening. And therein lies the chasm between Miss Saffron and Miss Noelle.
I’m sure a portion of it resides in the fact that we were four years of experience down the road when we adopted Saffy. And frankly we were expecting yet another Noelle. But I’m convinced that most of this issue lies in the fact that these are simply two vastly different wild horses. First, Saffy is much younger. According to the BLM she was only three when her baby was conceived in the wild. And still three when she was rounded up. Perhaps still three when we adopted her. Or barely four. Our vet agrees. The BLM said that Noelle was a late, six when she was rounded up, probably seven when we adopted her. And both our vet and we believe she might’ve been even older. But there were at least three very critical years between her and Saffy.
Critical, because at three to four a horse is still a child. Her growth plates do not even complete their fusing until late five-to-six years old. And our experience with Miss Mouse (an American Saddlebred rescued at less than a year old) was that she did not begin to develop her adult-like maturity until this past year. She’s now six and a half. Until then she was very full of herself, always playing and cavorting like a baby (See the Video of Mouse at Three).
What this has told us is that a mustang at three or four in the wild hasn’t yet matured enough to seriously take full responsibility for her own safety. She is taught from birth to respond to her genetic fear quotient React first and ask questions later. That little edge in time keeps the horse alive if a wolf or a cougar shows up. But until adulthood, if Mouse is any example, horses are more prone to react to other horses’ reaction to fear than to their own. In other words, they are trusting – at least to some degree – their herd members to be their primary fear trigger rather than taking responsibility for it themselves. During this past year Miss Mouse has become noticeably more reactive to first-hand stimuli. Until that change her freaky leaps in adrenaline were almost always either 1) in reaction to other horses reacting to something or 2) waking up out in the pasture and suddenly realizing that she was all alone. Her herd mates had wandered off. Yikes!!! And off she’d race to find them! Today, not so much. If she realizes she’s alone she’ll just wander back to wherever they are and settle in, secure in her own ability and awareness.
So… in other words. A three-to-four year old mustang (or younger) is likely going to be much more willing to trust some other horse – or a human who proves worthy – because she probably doesn’t yet fully trust herself (Saffron). A 6-7-8 year old who has fully learned to trust and rely on her own instincts and warnings has had the experience to see first hand how well her instincts work when she always reacts first and asks questions later (Noelle). Which is probably why we keep hearing around the horse world: if you’re going to adopt a mustang, adopt a young one.
Joe and Noelle
Does that mean I would trade Noelle? Of course not. I love her dearly. And deep down I know she loves me. And wants to do more than her highly sharpened instinct will allow her to do. You can see it in her eyes. And her actions. So, for now I will just be her friend and allow her the time her instincts require. I completely refuse to cowboy her in any way.
Joe and Noelle
Last evening Saffy’s baby, Miss Firestorm, also stood calmly for her second trim. But Mark found very little to do with her hooves because she gets so much exercise running, jumping, and being rambunctious out in the pasture and in the pea gravel of her paddock. Too, I was told, her winter coat has started coming in. Mark said this usually happens earlier with young horses than with adults. Mother Nature’s way of making sure her babies are well protected. What does that have to do with feet I asked. The protein that usually goes to the feet to keep them growing enough to travel the 8-20 miles a day they usually cover in the wild on hard high-desert terrain is now going into their winter coats. Because wild horses need a good winter coat more than rapidly growing feet since they don’t usually travel as far during winter days. It’s just incredible how all of this is worked out for the horse if we just let them be a horse and live the way they were designed to live.
Actually trimming Stormy’s feet should not be a big deal. I was lifting her feet on the day she was born and she was dozing in my lap on the third day of her life.
Still… I still cannot believe how fast the past six months have flown by. And how big she has gotten so quickly.
Stormy today (six and a half months) and her mama
Just compare the size of Stormy’s thighs and legs to Saffron’s. She’s going to be an amazing horse I’m thinking.
Meanwhile this gorgeous lady (Thank you Kathleen for all the photos), as I said earlier, never ceases to astound me.
She’s leading anywhere on a loose line, backs up on or off the line, moves her butt either way upon request…
She has learned to smile, to pull me up from my chair at No Agenda Time, and to ask politely for more hay. She comes when I call her (unless she’s munching something special in the pasture :), and, of course, she stands quietly for her feet to be trimmed. This mustang from the wild who had never touched or willingly been touched by any human when she came to us. And her baby is now training herself…
…to pick up the ball…
…to make her own bed…
…to thoroughly enjoy her life…
…and with a little help continue to sit or her very own beanbag.
What a delicious experience this has been for Kathleen and myself. And I thank God from the depths of my heart for the opportunity, and for showing me that I needed to know Noelle, and I needed to know Mouse, before I could really know Saffron and Firestorm. – Joe
Thank you for the narrative, thank Kathleen for the photos. I’ve known horses have a rule, probably the most important rule (and we all know they have lots of rules), ‘It wasn’t there yesterday’. In the wild it saved lives. In our world you would think they could drop that rule and let us worry about danger, but they can’t. Hence, your container wasn’t there yesterday, so it’s danger-danger, until it is determined not to be danger-danger.
Here’s hoping someday Noelle will be trusting enough to do whatever you want with her. Makes one wonder why she’s so afraid. Can you handle her feet? or is it just the trimmer?
Thanks for keeping us entertained and allowing us to learn in the entertainment.
Bev Lowe and Stormy
Hi Bev. Thanks much for the comments. And, no, Noelle has never had her feet trimmed by a human. And probably won’t for some time. But she, and tons of pea gravel around, do a fair job.
I love reading about you and your horses! I feel like you can never stop learning, there is so much they teach us with their body language! I’m just starting on my horse adventures, and just started riding a mustang, I’m hoping I have a lot of great stories to share in the coming time!
http://horseshoesandhearts.blogspot.com/
Thank you Marissa. Please keep us posted on your journey.
Oh my, how that baby Miss Saffy has grown!! She’s so big now,and so beautiful. What a gorgeous chocholate brown she is. I just bet you’re having so much fun with her. :o)
Cindy… Yes we are. But Saffy is the mom. Stormy is the baby :)
Thanks for sharing your amazing progress with Saffy and Firestorm! It is so cool to watch their story unfold, and the knowledge you’re gaining is helping us all better understand our horses natural instinct. Keep the stories coming – we love ’em!
Kate, Caroline, and Amy
PS – the girls and I are proudly wearing our HOHH shirts, and love it when we get questions about what it means :)
Amy… tell the girls and the horses howdy. I love it that you’re getting questions on HOHH. I hope you’re converting some folks :)
This is so very interesting, Joe. I am of course riveted by your learning as we are learning too over here in Italy! Your insight about the difference between youngsters and 5 years old is of great significance to me as our 3-year-old horses call out to each other imploringly when one goes out of sight. I am known to run out of the house and scamper around to locate them both so heart-rendering is their calling. I love the photograph of Miss Stormy standing so neatly and perfectly on the plinth, one back foot gracefully lifted and held by the trimmer. This very thing happening is a huge achievement and a credit to you both. Stormy looks so confident like a Roman equestrian statue, yet she is just a wee baby mustang! Lucky Stormy to have chosen you and Kathleen. Many thanks, as always.
Helen… thanks so much. Do remember that the learning is conceptual, not rule specific :). About Saffy being trimmed, I asked Mark to please do exactly what I did in prepping her. Specifically to ask for the hoof by speaking to her, applying light pressure on the pastern and maybe a slight lean in to help unweight the foot… but then to wait until she offers it and then only cradle it. don’t grasp it or squeeze it. He of course did exactly that and it was quite a beautiful experience. Stormy I’m afraid isn’t a wee anything anymore :). And she didn’t choose us. Her mama did. Remember she was born here three days after Saffy arrived. We love what you’re doing over there. Keep it up and keep us posted please.