The Art Of Catching Horses...

I have learned over the years that if a horse doesn't want to be caught, you just can't catch it... unless you devise some clever plans to outsmart it (or wear it out completely).

I totally understand a horse's 'flight' mechanism, and why it's there. I understand that their innate ability to run from predators has kept wild horses alive for many generations. However, I do not understand why horses (particularly miniature horses) need to exercise that particular trait in an indoor arena... When I'm tired...

I brought two new miniature stallions home the other day - one is a year old, and one is a 3-year-old. Neither of them have had a lot of halter work done, and both of them are (unfortunately) extremely fast, and can spin like World Champion reining horses. I should have known I was in for trouble when it took me several minutes to catch each of them in their 10X12 stalls. Whatever possessed me to turn them out in my 50X60 indoor arena together (after the struggle it took just to get their halters on in their stalls), I don't really know. But I was tired, I'd had a long day, and they had energy to burn. Rather than clean their stalls with them inside, I decided that I could get them exercised and have their stalls cleaned, thus making me the great multi-tasker of the day. Or maybe the biggest idiot. I haven't decided.

Once I was done cleaning their stalls, I foolishly wandered over to the arena, knelt down, and called their names. Pretty much all of the miniature horses I've had so far either come when they're called, or can at least be cornered when it's time to be caught. Not so with the two new guys....

In a lot of ways, full-size horses are somewhat easier to catch. You can mess with their heads a little bit, and convince them that when you open your arms wide, that creates some kind of imaginary barrier that they can't cross when pinned in a corner. It doesn't always work, but it is possible to catch a horse that way. With miniatures, I am convinced that their smaller size means their brains have to work much faster, and therefore it makes them craftier when it comes time to catch them in a large area (or small one, like their stall). And today was no different - I was just more tired than usual.

It actually only took 10 minutes to out-maneuver the clever 3-year-old. He finally gave up his frantic running circles when he realized that hey, it was close to dinner time, and he was suddenly hungry. I got him to his stall, and went back for the yearling. He hasn't decided if he likes the food here or not, and was a little tougher to convince that the grain I was rattling around in the bucket was worth allowing me to catch him. He trotted glorious circles around me, would allow me to get within 3 inches of him, and then he'd take off with his head in the air, whinnying. I love horses, and have spent my entire life around them. But on nights like this, turtle farming was looking real good.

The yearling has not been body-clipped yet, so the more he ran, the hotter he got. We call him the 'little llama', because he looks like a llama at the moment, with long shaggy hair that even feels like a llama. I was concerned that he'd get a chill, and decided he had much more energy to burn than I did. I had to devise a clever plan, and quickly, before we both worse ourselves out.

I must say that this was the first time I had ever 'given up' on catching a horse. Something about evasive horses creates a challenge in my head, and I have to outsmart them no matter what. Tonight, however, I didn't care about devising a clever plan to capture this little 80-lb creature. I just wanted dinner. And a warm shower. I know we've all been there, fellow horse people. You know how it feels.

I closed the big doors to the barn, opened his stall door, and proceeded to herd him down the aisles to his stall. The barn cat was highly amused, having watched the previous 20 minutes with great interest, probably saying to herself 'Wow - Deb hasn't had a worthy adversary in this barn for a while - this one's a keeper!'. This new game was even more fun and challenging for him, since it narrowed the space we were working with, and increased his excitement for being loose and naughty. After another 5 minutes of his games, he finally walked quietly into his stall, without any flourish or ferver. I was even more hungry, even more tired, and even less interested in being a horse person. I guess that's where the true horse addiction stuff comes into play - when we're nursing a sick horse, spending every last dollar on their care, or chasing them in endless circles trying to capture them. I think I'm going to take up gambling instead - at least you get to stay still. ;)