Horse Mavericks

Feeling the Energy

The Sierra Foothills arrayed in its blue, green and brown shades surrounded Lanny West’s neighborhood.  He stood in the middle of his round pen and pointed at Gambler’s muzzle.  “This little itty-bitty mouth isn’t gonna steer the whole horse,” he said.

Gambler chewed his tongue a couple of times.  I was trying to get my butt balanced comfortably on the fence.  “So how do you turn a horse,” I said. 

“You gotta steer his feet,” he said.

Made sense to me.  I could walk straight with my head turned sideways.  I figured a horse could do the same.  “So how do I steer the feet?” I said.

“You tilt the nose in the direction you want to go and drive the feet.”

I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees.  “How do you drive the feet?”

“Ya get your ass out of the saddle and raise your energy.” 

I chewed my bottom lip and shook my head.  “How do you raise your energy?”

“Hell if I know,” he said.  “You just gotta feel it.”

Honestly, I would have been half a hair width away in thinking the guy was off his rocker if I hadn’t watched him train horses.  I’ve seen him drive colts from a walk to a gallop without swinging a rope.  I’ve seen him move a gelding who was invading his personal space with nothing more than a sideways glance.  If he wasn’t off his rocker than what was he doing?  Raising his energy, he would call it. 

He motioned with his fingers for me to jump down from the fence.  The sand scraped the soles of my cowboy boots.  I approached Gambler.  “Drive him at the shoulder,” Lanny said.

Having no idea what I was supposed to do, I took the lead rope from him and glared at the horse’s shoulder.  The ole boy glanced at me and sighed.  I swung my rope.  He started lumbering forward.  “Drive him,” Lanny said loudly.  I felt his energy and I cowered from it.

“Drive him,” he said louder.

I tensed my muscles.  I visualized lightening shooting from my body and striking Gambler’s shoulder.  My efforts seemed corny and contrite, but I was grasping at straws.  Finally, I resorted to swinging my rope some more.  Gambler picked up his pace. 

“You have to keep your energy up to control his speed.”

I filled my chest with air and tried to appear big.  Gambler slowed.  He turned to face me. 

“That’s enough for today,” Lanny said. 

I led Gambler to his pasture no wiser than when I first set foot in the pen.  Lanny knew something I didn’t and I wanted to learn what he knew.  If I could develop even a fraction of what I like to call his energy skills, I would be safer and get along better with my horse. 

Leaving Gambler to chomp down his dinner, Lanny drove me to my parent’s house in his pick-up.  When we arrived, my mother, Cheryl, came running to the truck.  Her brow was knitted and she was waving her entire arm intent on not letting Lanny leave until she had spoken to him. 

As soon as his window was half way down she said, “Something is wrong with Rosy.”

Lanny got out and followed Cheryl to the mare’s stall.  She stood on three legs.  Cheryl led the sorrel back a forth a couple of times so Lanny could watch the horse walk.  Then he asked me to longe the mare.

I stood in the middle of the stall holding the lead rope and attempted to raise my energy.  The mare practically leapt into a gallop.  Alarmed, I relaxed in order to lower my energy.  I didn’t want Rosy to hurt her ankle.   

“Okay, that’s enough,” Lanny said and took the rope from me.  He told Cheryl to keep Rosy quiet for a few days and watch her. 

I was shocked at the difference between Gambler and Rosy.  Longing Gambler felt as if I were lifting a heavy box.  Longing Rosy was like lifting a feather.  She was more sensitive.  This was the first clue to controlling my energy. 

A couple of days later I was going through my morning rituals–taking my vitamins, applying lotion to my rough skin, ECT–with Sage riding my hip.  The one-year-old’s wide eyes followed everything I did.  She peered into my mouth while I brushed my teeth to watch the bubbles rise on my gums.  I rinsed the toothbrush, slurped some water from the facet, swished a couple of times and spit. 

I picked up my comb and suddenly her weight shifted.  I knew she wanted the spare comb I kept in the drawer.  I gave it to her.  We each brushed our hair and giggled. 

Then, she leaned back and stared at the floor.  I followed the direction of her eyes.  She wanted the pink binky which was lying on the carpet.  I picked it up and stuck it in her mouth. 

I continued untangling my hair, but before I could finish, I felt her steering me out of the bathroom.  We went through the bedroom, into the living and to the kitchen.  She wanted something to drink.  I filled a sippy-cup with water and she snatched it from my hand as soon as the lid was tightened.  “You’re riding me like I horse,” I said to her. 

Then it struck me.  Sage used her body language and her energy to show me what she wanted.  She wasn’t talking to me, but she was clearly communicating with me.  Perhaps I could do the same with Gambler. 

A couple of weeks later, I was riding Gambler.  I wanted Gambler to quit following Lanny’s horse and pick a different path.  I tapped Gambler’s ribs with my heels and rolled my butt forward in the saddle.  I held my reins in front of the saddle horn and drove him forward with my energy.  Amazingly, he did exactly what I intended him to do. 

Hum, I thought to myself.  I didn’t know what I just did, but Gambler was doing what I asked.  I like to think I felt the energy briefly.  

Is what Bill Dorrance describes as a feel the same thing as Lanny West’s energy skills?  What do you think?  Do you have any experience with controlling your energy?  Could you describe it?  

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