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The Stall Climber

"...It’s gotten so bad that entering his stall sends him up the wall. I mean literally up the wall!"

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In the mid 90’s I lived at a fabulous boarding facility in Larkspur, Colorado. The hundred and twenty acres was nestled right against the eastern-most edge of the Rocky Mountains and had a plethora of fascinating sandstone rock formations scattered throughout the property and adjacent lands in which I rode. As my reputation for helping troubled horses grew I was almost constantly challenged with interesting situations.

One spring morning I received a call unlike anything I’d ever dealt with or heard about. The owner of the racing bred quarter horse yearling stallion was almost frantic. “We’ve raised this magnificent horse that has gone out of his mind. It’s gotten so bad that entering his stall sends him up the wall. I mean literally up the wall,” explained Dick Hodges. “I’ve been to the hospital, broken my glasses, and cut up my face just trying to halter this young stallion. We’re in over our heads here, Frank. Do you think you can help us?” inquired this exasperated man.

“Well, Dick, this is sure a new situation to me, but I’m pretty sure I can make some headway. Let’s set up a time to get together. But it’s absolutely imperative that you and anyone who handles your stallion is present.”

I drove over to Dick and Luanne Hodge’s place in Castlerock the next afternoon. They lived on a plateau above the little town of Castlerock and had commanding views of the Rockies. The Hodges bred and raced very high-strung quarter horses that performed quite well at the track. Now these are not the laid-back horses encountered in dude strings that happily amble down the trail. These are a completely different breed of cat that is much closer to high-stung breeds like thoroughbreds and Arabians; they have to be to compete.  These horses are fed high protein food and some have hair-trigger personalities. It is what is needed to play this extremely fast game. You see, these horses are bred to sprint a quarter mile, hence the name quarter horse.

I had little experience with this particular class of horse, but plenty of time with the hotter breeds, which did give me a starting place. The Argentine thoroughbreds from the fast world of polo and the numerous Arabians of the past few years gave me valuable experience in dealing with energized horses. These horses need a job to keep their overly active minds focused. They just aren’t set up to do much of anything at a relaxed pace.

Dick’s Trip to the Hospital

We walked from the Hodges ranch-style stucco house out to the barn. Horses were happily moving around their runs enjoying the warm Colorado afternoon sun. “You know Frank we’ve been playing this game pretty successfully for almost ten years, but never encountered anything quite like this. Lightning has been a handful right from the day he hit the ground. Nothing comes easy to this guy and he just doesn’t seem to warm up to anyone. I’d say his hormones have kicked in over the last couple months and it’s just been nothing but trouble. I dislocated my shoulder a month ago and well, you can see how my face is healing up,” Dick filled me in. He had a bright red scar coming right off his left eye. “Eighteen stitches and plastic surgery,” he said shaking his head. At this point I was actually feeling queasy as my heart beat much faster than normal. This was not the average appointment.

We walked into the old wooden barn and down a dark narrow alley to the very end. “He’s in there,” Dick motioned to the right. “But don’t move fast. Just peek in from over the top. I don’t dare open the stall door. It’ll drive him up the wall.” I gently eased myself up onto a mounting block and peered over the edge. The very moment the horse caught sight of me he surged into the corner. The solid wood stall groaned as the horse collided into the sharp right angle.

“Man, he is freaked out. Whew,” I breathed out quietly. Inside the stall was a truly magnificent creature. Lightning was a brilliant chestnut with four striking white sox. He had an ample flaxen mane and tail and most of his eyes showed way too much white. He shook in terror and as I edged higher he rose up on two legs and frantically pawed the walls in the corner in an attempt to escape. Now this was one very freaked out animal. I lowered myself back down for a consultation before proceeding.

A Dangerous Equation

“What is outside this door?” I asked.

“That’s his run. Wanna take a look, Frank?”

“I sure do.  Let’s take a walk out there and survey his boundaries,” I suggested. Dick opened the door from the alley out into Lightning’s run. It was about twenty-five feet wide and probably fifty or sixty feet in length. The problem was the boundaries. The fencing was only about four and a half feet high, five tops, and consisted of page wire. There were four-inch wooden rails over the top of the wire fencing all the way around. But this was not a great set-up. Most any horse could go over or through this fence in a panic. I shook my head. Yet another dangerous set-up that could completely compromise my plan. But this was what I had to work with, so I put a plan together. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll get a rope on him inside and allow him to drag it around until he’s handling it pretty well. Then we’re going to let him out with the rope dragging behind. He’ll want to go right over or through the far end when he first comes out. So you three will be there to stop him. If we can turn him, then we’ve won the battle. But we’ll need some things to wave at him to make this end seem impenetrable. Can you go get some plastic and paper feed bags, Luanne?” I asked. She nodded. “You get that stuff together, Luanne, and I’ll begin with him.”

I walked back to the stall and removed a thirty-foot half-inch cotton rope from my tack bag. I again eased up over the edge of the stall and he again freaked out and began climbing the walls. “Eeeeeeeeeeeeasy boy,” I cooed over and over. “Settle down now big fella. No one’s gonna hurt you now. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeasy now.” Eventually he found a corner that he was comfortable with and stood there shaking all over. I very, very slowly allowed the thirty-foot rope to slip from my hands and dangle down the side of the stall. He eyed it with suspicion, but handled it. Then I began putting some life into the rope and slowly moved it back and forth along the wall. Within five minutes I was able to work it in big arcs along the wall and even flick it out into the stall. He jumped back several times as if a snake were after him, but he did deal with it. I then coiled the rope up and gave it a good toss toward the other end of the stall. He didn’t miss anything and watched with an intensity unlike anything I’d ever witnessed. Again I coiled the cotton rope up and this time tossed it to the middle of the stall. This sent him into a tizzy and he bolted into the corner away from the motion. The dust was almost unbearable and I breathed through my shirtsleeve until it settled. But he stopped and watched as I dragged the rope back to me and tossed it again. Within a few minutes he handled the rope falling from the top of the stall into his world. And now it was time for the moment of truth. Could he handle the soft cotton rope on his body?

“Let’s let the dust settle for a few minutes,” I suggested. Dick, Luanne, my assistant Peter and I walked out into his run. “He’s doing pretty well. At least he’s not trying to climb out,” I optimistically commented. “You do know this is pretty dangerous stuff and he could hurt himself?” I queried.

“Well what else can we do, Frank?” asked Dick, shaking his head.

“I think we’ll be okay. But this is dicey and you have to understand that,” I explained.  He’s so wired up that he could very easily hurt himself. That’s all I’m saying. This just isn’t the ideal set-up. A round pen with six-foot walls would be ideal. But there just aren’t a lot of choices here. I feel like it will be ok, but I just need you to completely comprehend what this is all about.”

“I trust you here, Frank, and I do understand what you’re telling me,” Dick replied.

“Okay then. It’s show time. Let’s go back inside,” I instructed my helpers.

Off to the Races

The dust had settled as had Lightning. There was a tad less white in his eyes and his head wasn’t sky-high. I’d left the rope hanging off the stall wall and a good length of it was laying on the stall floor not far from the stallion. From the alley I shook the rope and listened for his explosion. It didn’t happen. I shook the rope harder and harder, and then climbed up over him above the top of the stall. His head shot up and the white filled his eyes again. But I wasn’t going to back down and continued shaking the rope back and forth. He handled it quite well, so I reeled the cotton rope back to me and coiled it up. I now had a half dozen big loops in my hand and then began to wave the rope back and forth aggressively along the wall. Each time the arc was higher and higher until I felt the time was right and I let fly. The coiled rope landed on his back and we were off to the races.

Round and around Lightning shot carrying the cotton rope. About the time the dust had thickened to the point of choking me, the rope worked its way off his body. He stopped instantly, then turned and faced the culprit and dropped his head to get a very good look. He snorted loudly and struck at the rope with his front fore leg several times. Then after about thirty seconds he confidently licked his lips as if to say, “I can handle it.” I again began lightly shaking the rope and progressed until I was putting as much life into it as I could. The end snapped all over the stall and he didn’t move an inch. He didn’t take his eyes off it either. I quickly reeled in the rope and without any pause, again tossed it onto him. Off he went, but a hair slower this time and the rope stayed on him, hanging off his back. Round and around he went probably a dozen times. I held the rope as high as I could and he didn’t lose it. Finally he found his favorite corner and stopped. Very, very slowly he turned his head to his left and took a long sniff of the well-used horse-smelling rope. “Smells just like horses doesn’t it, Lightning?” I asked him. He almost seemed to nod at my prodding, then took a very deep sigh and suddenly quite visibly let down. He lowered his head and licked his lips with gusto. “That was huge. You guys all see that?” I asked.

“Wow,” and some other more colorful language was released as we all digested what had just taken place. As Lightning let down, so did we.

“Let’s take another short break and breathe some fresh air,” I suggested. We all walked out again and just filled our lungs with crisp spring Colorado air. “I think we’re over the hard part now. There’s just one more huge hurdle and that’s when he comes out.  You guys ready?”  Everyone nodded in tacit agreement and we walked back in.

Lightning was standing back in his favorite corner with the rope draped over his side. His demeanor was reasonable. I climbed up high onto the mounting block without precaution; he handled it well. I deliberately banged on the side of the stall and then urged the others to do the same. Lightning’s head raised up, but he was still okay. With my end of the rope I began playing jump rope, swinging it back and forth until I was doing complete circles. The rope was falling time after time onto his back and he was okay. Finally with a flick of my wrist the rope formed a circle and landed over his head. I kept the momentum going and another loop enveloped his head and neck. Perfect. “Shoulda been a cowboy. Shoulda learned to rope and ride,” I sang softly with a smile. One more loop over his head and he was caught, at least to my satisfaction.

I eased down off the mounting block and fished in my bag for my extendable wand. The wand had a plastic bag on the end. Back up over Lightning I began to lightly agitate the bag behind my student. It didn’t take much to get him moving forward. At first he was impulsive, and herky jerky in his movements. But before long Lightning just walked around the stall like a champ dragging about twelve feet of rope behind him. Perfect. I got a bit more aggressive with the wand and plastic bag until he broke into a trot, and then backed off. “Let’s move the party outside,” I instructed. “You guys all get on the outside at the far end and have your ammunition ready. This is the big test now. Everybody ready?” To silent nods of approval we all walked back into the clean afternoon air.

Out the Gate

“Now the moment he comes out you guys begin waving your arms and plastic bags and make a hissing noise. Get as aggressive as necessary. You’ve got to turn him and don’t back down, no matter what. Everybody okay?” I searched their eyes for confidence and    found it. With my team assembled, I unlatched the top of the double door. Lightning shot into the corner and my heart leapt with a thump. “Eeeeeeeasy now Lightening. Eeeeeeeasy boy,” I soothed him as best I could. He looked at me wide-eyed. New game here now. It was all fine inside. But this was different. When he’d settled, I unlatched the bottom door, swung it all the way open, and moved back out of the way. Almost instantly the overcharged chestnut horse screamed out of the stall dragging the rope behind him. At the other end three people became a huge crowd of waving and hissing mania as Lightning rushed them. I held my breath and for a very, very long second or two froze in high hopes that my plan would work. The stallion’s speed and agility were equally impressive as he bared down on my team of three. Then with only feet between the end of the run and a wildly moving racing-bred quarter horse did he veer off and somehow come out the other side back toward me. Voila! Success. We’d done it! He seemed to want to go right back to the security of his stall, but I blocked his way with waving arms and a loud guttural sound from deep in my throat. Again he veered, circled, and headed toward the other end. But it was over now. He made another half dozen laps at the canter, then down to the trot and the walk and finally settled right in the middle of the run that he hadn’t entered in weeks. Steam radiated from his whole being as the sweat glistened in the bright sun and two distinct streams of heavy breathing shot from his extended nostrils into the cooling afternoon air.

I raised both clenched fists high in the air in a sign of success as the others did the same. “We did it guys. We did it, “ I yelled.

Back to Basics

I slowly walked by Lightning to the other end of the run and we huddled up. “Now what Frank?” asked Dick with a questioning look.

“Well, Dick, now it’s about trust building and reintroducing the basis for all training, take and give. Then it’s about directing that quantum energy with total purpose and helping Lightning face his fears. But I’m pretty sure the heavy lifting is done. Watch closely and you’ll see your horse completely transform into my new best friend.”

By now Lightning was breathing close to normal. I eased up to him and offered my extended hand. He took a wary sniff and was close to leaving when I backed off. I walked behind him to the end of the cotton rope, picked it up, and then walked out in front of him and stopped about thirty degrees off to his side. Very gently I picked up on the rope, applied pressure, and waited. My stature was non-threatening and my eyes soft and averted. After about thirty seconds he deliberately leaned forward. I gave him a big release. All the tension in the rope was gone the very instant he thought about yielding to that forward pressure on his neck. His eyes softened in understanding and his head dropped. Again I applied pressure and he almost immediately took an assured step forward. My release was again well timed. I walked up to him and stroked his forehead, then scratched the V under his jaw. His head arched up at an awkward angle in a sure sign of pleasure. I quit while it was working and allowed my attention to sink in for at least a half minute. Then I lowered myself to my knees and applied downward pressure on the cotton rope, and waited. It took Lightning about fifteen seconds to understand my desire, and then his head dropped a good two inches. Again I asked for his head to drop and this time he gave me about six, and then he was breathing right into my face as I stroked vigorously under his jaw. I stood up and walked over to the fence at the far end with the lead lightly in my hand. He followed on a slack lead and stopped just off my shoulder. Not a word was spoken by anyone as he thoroughly sniffed my neck and head, then dropped is own head almost to the ground and let out a huge sigh of relief. The heavy lifting was over.

Frank Bell and his accredited instructors have been helping horses with their people problems for several decades. He writes interesting stories about these horses and their challenges. He also helps people better understand how to communicate with these magnificent creatures by answering their vexing questions on his website. Frank has designed a logical set of exercises that immediately places both parties on higher ground . . . without the need for a round pen. Suddenly both parties are riding in confidence instead of fear. Frank Bell’s 7-Step Safety System has been featured in horse magazines and e-zines throughout the world including a three-part series in Western Horseman magazine. Frank’s video “Discover the Horse You Never Knew” fully outlines “the system” and is available in the audio/video library that includes twelve works. Join Frank Bell’s Gentle Solution Revolution and breakthrough your training barriers now!

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