Horses Never Lie: The Heart of Passive Leadership

by Mark Rashid

He went on to say that no amount of training in the world can take away what Mother Nature has instilled. Just because we think a horse should do things a certain way doesn’t mean that the horse sees it the same way. In this case, Star was just letting me know that I couldn’t make her perform a meaningless task that would cause her to use energy she might need later.

He explained that I was riding without purpose or direction. Up to that point I had been demanding that she go, but not giving her any place to go. He pointed out that the whole time I was hitting her with the reins and kicking her in the sides to try to get her to move faster, I was also staring straight at her head. By looking at her instead of where I wanted to go, I wasn’t giving her any direction. Her perception was that I had left the direction up to her, and seeing as how Mother Nature geared her to save as much energy as possible throughout the day, she took it upon herself to do what Mother Nature was telling her, not what I was telling her.

He was right. Kit had figured out how to do the least amount of work possible and still keep her job. I believe she understood that the faster she got back to the barn, the quicker she would be going out on another ride, and thus the more work she would be doing. On the other hand, if she walked slow enough, she not only successfully slowed the entire ride down to her pace, but she shortened the amount of time she had to work in any given day.

On the other hand, by coming at them with the “alpha” mindset (as it is taught and understood by many trainers and instructors) we are often entering into the situation with the horse’s discomfort as our primary goal. A more popular way to say that might be that we are looking for ways to make the wrong thing difficult for them and the right thing easy. Of course that is not to say that a horse may

You see, when a horse is fearful or in trouble, they almost always start looking for someone or something to help them.

They are highly dependent on other individuals to ensure their survival. You will seldom see a horse all by itself in the wild, because a lone horse in the wild is usually a dead horse. So, from a horse’s perspective, there is always safety in numbers, and that is the one thing that every horse knows. The key, then, is to find a way to get horses to see you as the individual who can help them when they need it.

“Any time you’re willing to fight with horses,” he said in a low, unwavering tone, “they’ll always be willing to fight back. The thing is, though, even during those fights the horse is still trying to figure out what you want. The sad part is, because you’re so busy fighting with them, you’ll never feel those tries. Sounds to me like you finally quit fighting with her.”

needed to acknowledge the try by making sure I released my cue on time and build on the try by reapplying the cue before the forward surge was completely gone.

Once I quit fighting with him and began rewarding his efforts to respond to my cues, he became extremely willing to do what I was asking. The fight and confusion just seemed to melt away, and a whole new horse emerged.

It’s been my experience that a try can be anything from a flying lead change to the flick of an ear, depending on the circumstance and the horse.

All, I believe, because his idea of what a try was had been noticed and then rewarded.

I remember when originally writing this chapter that I was trying to make the point that a horse’s “try” to do what we are asking is often much smaller than we might think, and is almost always smaller than what we are looking for. In the years since writing this book, and in particular this chapter, I have come to understand that a horse’s “try” is very often even smaller than what I understood it to be back then! Horses have the innate ability to communicate on a level I’m not sure we humans completely understand and that we may never be able to achieve. However, one thing I know for sure is that if we don’t try to get to their level, we absolutely will never get there.

Now, let’s throw a horse into the equation. Most of us are constantly searching for a relationship with our horse that is based on trust. In theory, we want to trust our horse and we want our horse to trust us. In reality, however, what we usually have is a sort of one-way trust. In other words, we trust that our horse trusts us, but we don’t really trust our horse.

Unfortunately, we humans are simply not programmed to think that way. We’re programmed to think that we’re smarter than our horses and that our decisions are always the right ones . . . for both of us. Over the past several years, it has come to me that, perhaps, in order for our horses to truly look to us as a leader, there needs to be some give and take in the relationship we have with them. In other words, perhaps we need to give them half a chance from time to time, so we can show them that their judgment in certain situations can, in fact, be trusted. At the very least, we can communicate to them that we are willing to meet them halfway—even in situations where their judgment may leave a little to be desired.

Throughout my career working with horses, one thing the old man taught me has remained a constant—if I was willing to fight with a horse, the horse was almost always willing to fight back. The thing was, there were always a couple of problems in fighting with horses. The first was that any time I fought with a horse, it usually ended up being meaningless to the horse in the end. The second was that anytime I argued with a horse, I always seemed to breach whatever trust that horse had in me. It usually took quite a while for me to prove myself trustworthy to the horse afterwards.

I truly believe that, because she had initially “gotten her way” (for lack of a better phrase), even though it may have only been for a few seconds, she had no reason to argue with me and, therefore, no reason to fight. Basically, when she asked to come off the rail, I told her, Sure, let’s go. That defused the situation right from the start. Because I was willing to meet her halfway, I believe it was easier for her in the long run to comply with what was being asked.

What I tried to do was show the mare that I wasn’t interested in demanding that she see me as the dominant member of our partnership, but that I was willing to listen to what she had to say. By the same token, I was telling her that, Yes, we could do what she was asking, but look how much work it creates for the both of us.

When I talk about this idea of letting the horse have a little say during training, I generally get the same kind of response from people. It starts with a sort of glazing over of the eyes, then a collective gasp, which culminates in a loud chorus of, “You can’t do that!” These folks are concerned about the old idea that if you give your horse an inch, the horse will take a mile. They’ll say that letting a horse have its way is the quickest way for it to become spoiled and disrespectful, and once that happens, you’ll have a whole new set of problems on your hands.

We need to slow down and back up just a little, because I am certainly not advocating that we let our horses have the run of the place. Not at all. All I’m saying is that there are times when it’s to our advantage (and our horse’s advantage) to let him have his say, if for no other reason than to let him get it out of his system. You see, sometimes we get so hung up on trying to accomplish a certain task with our horse that the horse himself gets lost in the shuffle. Because the horse has a little trouble understanding what is happening or what is being asked of him, he becomes frustrated. Once frustrated, the horse may become fearful or defensive, which we may misunderstand as a lack of try. That may cause a number of reactions on our part. The most common is a sort of no-nonsense, “I say, you do . . . and I mean NOW” mentality that sometimes escalates into a situation that no one really cares to be in. Because this type of confrontation often causes the rider to get physical with the horse in one way or another, the horse’s trust in the rider’s judgment takes a turn downward, and their relationship often becomes damaged.

If things aren’t going well, maybe it’s time to listen to what our horse is trying to tell us. It could very well be that he has the answer to why things aren’t going well, and if we give him half a chance, perhaps he’ll tell us what that is.

I have seen so many horses almost completely give up on people, simply because the people around them haven’t tried to listen when the horses needed them to the most.

By the time I met Missy, she had pretty much had it with people.

I guess sometimes we get so tangled up in trying to find ways to teach our horses to do things or in finding training “techniques” to help us solve our horse’s problems, that we forget to take the most important factor into consideration—the horse.

It seems to me that by giving our horses half a chance to tell us what’s on their minds and genuinely listening to what they have to say, we can open the door to a whole new line of communication with them, one that perhaps wasn’t even there before. By doing so, we allow ourselves the opportunity to get all the options on the table . . . even the ones that our horses might be suggesting. This allows us to make a truly informed decision as to what course might be the correct one to take and limits the mistakes we might make in the long run.

When it gets right down to it, what I am talking about here is trust. Trusting our horses to do the right thing by us and doing the right thing by our horses. Of course, before our horses can really trust us, we must first prove to them that we can be fair in our decision-making. What better way is there to develop that fairness than to let our horse have his say from time to time? Not that we alwa...

Perhaps the best way to become a trusted leader for our horses is to first demonstrate that we aren’t afraid to be a follower every once in a while. It’s not a sin to let our horses tell us when something is wrong or to let them make a decision from time to time. If it’s a good decision, we can go with it. If it’s a bad decision, we can be prepared to show them why it was a bad decision and what we can do to help them out of it. By doing so, we’re not only avoiding a potential fight, but we are also showing our horses that we can be counted on to be fair in just about every situation. Giving a horse that chance may be all ...

It got me to thinking that if there were any one chapter in this book that really illustrates the horse’s need to follow a leader they can trust, it would be this one. Truly, as was demonstrated by Bud and Missy’s stories, when given half a chance and a little direction that makes sense to them, the vast majority of horses out there will do what they can to find a way to get along.

The wranglers were instructed to ride the horses with the softest cues possible, often using nothing more than a light squeeze to get forward movement and a shift of weight in the saddle, along with light pressure on the reins, for a stop. They were also instructed to look for, find, and then release their cues at the slightest try from the horse—

I feel like one of the biggest things that helped create the positive atmosphere at the old man’s place was the fact that he seldom, if ever, made a big deal out of anything. He never yelled at anyone that I know of, and he never fought with his horses. As a result, there was an air about him that said that even if something bad did happen on the place, everything would be okay anyway. He made it easy for his horses to look to him as someone who could be counted on and trusted when things went bad.

It turns out that all we had to do to accomplish our goal was let the horse tell us what we needed to be doing. He already knew what it would take, he just needed the opportunity to show us. In this case, we simply needed to allow ourselves to follow before we could step up and lead.

Over the years I have noticed a very distinct difference between horses that choose to see us as leaders and those that have been forced to follow. The difference is palpable. Every horse I’ve been involved with that truly trusted its owner was always willing to bend over backwards to do the right thing. The horse was always there for the owner when it was needed the most and would seldom, if ever, quit. Horses that have been forced into submission, on the other hand, bend just enough to get the task accomplished, but no more. If given the chance, the horse has no qualms about quitting when the owner needs it most.

In the end, I guess the only way a horse is going to decide to choose us as its leader is if we can show the horse that we can be dependable. How we choose to accomplish that is up to us. Whether...

That was the point I made regarding the idea that when working toward developing a leadership role with a horse, how important it is to make sure the horse understands boundaries, as well as the difference between what we might see as positive behavior from them as opposed to negative behavior. I think sometimes folks get so focused on wanting to have a harmonious relationship with their horse, they forget that horses, just like people, need to understand how to do their job properly in order to be comfortable doing it. It’s difficult for a horse to feel comfortable when there are no boundaries or limitations put on their behavior. In a herd situation, boundaries are one of the first things horses learn from other horses, followed closely by learning how to act as a productive member of the herd through limitations on their behavior. I think it’s important to remember that good horsemanship, just like life itself, is all about keeping things in balance. There can’t be comfort without a little discomfort, and there can’t be balance unless things become a little unbalanced from time to time. When we can learn to embrace those times when things aren’t going as well as we would like, and then find ways to deal with them in a productive manner, that’s when I believe horses can begin to look to us as a leader they can trust.

“I believe horses know the difference between when you are doing something with them and when you are doing something to them,”

I don’t know how many people I’ve seen who have relied so heavily on getting a certain technique just right that they have lost sight of everything else, including their horse. The sad thing is that it’s usually those same people who are trying so hard to achieve a true, willing partnership between themselves and their horse. Unfortunately, the harder these folks strive for that kind of relationship relying strictly on techniques and cues, the worse the relationship often becomes.

Sometimes things deteriorate very quickly—almost overnight it seems—with the horse suddenly, and sometimes violently, protesting every little thing that the rider tries to do. More often than not, however, the relationship deteriorates at such a slow pace that the owner doesn’t even realize anything is wrong until weeks, months, or even years after things originally began to fall apart. Even then, there is usually nothing that the owner can actually put a finger on. It’s more of a nagging feeling that something just isn’t right between them. Once the feeling starts, it usually doesn’t take long before it gets the better of the person and they start looking for some answers.

Jo was doing what she had been taught at the clinics. She made the wrong thing difficult for Treasure. Unfortunately, because Treasure was such a sensitive horse, the mare began to worry about making mistakes, while trying to figure out a way to avoid the consequences that Jo provided. Even though, on the surface, Treasure appeared responsive most of the time, she couldn’t relax. It was as if she was constantly in the “ready” mode, looking to react any time, anywhere. Unwittingly, Jo may have been making the wrong things too difficult for the mare, and as a result, the mare was building a wall between herself and Jo.

“I know,” she nodded. “But I don’t want her responding to me because she doesn’t feel like she has a choice. I want her to do it because she wants to, not because she feels she has to.” “Fair enough.”

“I guess I lost sight of how she felt about this whole deal,” she began. “I was feeling pretty pleased with being able to push her through all of her various maneuvers. I never realized that she might have been detaching herself mentally from the whole thing. I don’t want that for her, or me.” She paused. “I’d like to do whatever it takes to make it right with her.”

I felt that was at the heart of the trouble they were having. Treasure was never given the time to think through the things that Jo asked from her. Jo had been taught during past clinics that if Treasure didn’t respond within a given amount of time, pressure needed to be escalated until she did respond. That didn’t leave much room for thought or error on the mare’s part. It also didn’t allow Jo the time she needed to feel the tries that Treasure offered. Jo often put a cue right on top of a try, which caused confusion for Treasure. Treasure never really knew when she was doing the right thing and, as a result, had trouble being consistent in her responses. That, in and of itself, was one of the main reasons why the mare was soft and fluid one minute, then stiff and bracey the next. She simply never knew when she was doing something right.

She gave Treasure the benefit of the doubt more often and spent more time waiting for the mare to make the right decision in a tough situation, rather than trying to rush her.

What Jo didn’t know was that the mental vapor lock she was going through was happening because she wasn’t looking to herself for the answers—she was still unwittingly relying on technique. The difference was that, instead of trying to see how fast she could accomplish a goal, as she had done before the clinic, she was wondering how soft was soft. But she didn’t put any “feel” behind the question.

“I think what we need to remember here,” I said, “is that your relationship with your horse comes from the heart, not the hands. From what you’re telling me, Treasure is already there. She’ll be waiting for you when you find it.”

I made a point of telling her not to be so hard on herself, to try to quit worrying so much about accomplishing goals and doing “things,” and to just enjoy her time with her horse. Once they were comfortable with each other, the goals and “things” would more than likely take care of themselves.

She mentioned that during one of the rides they took. Treasure was fidgety at the beginning, but by the end, she’d become real soft and quiet. During subsequent rides, the fidgeting went away completely, but as the rides went on Treasure sometimes became a little anxious. Instead of making her try to control her anxiousness, as she would have in the past, Jo allowed Treasure the opportunity to express her opinion. She allowed the mare to move when she felt like she had to, but Jo also stepped up and directed her in a soft and meaningful way, usually asking her to do some serpentines or figure eights around nearby trees and bushes. Jo mentioned that, even though Treasure was anxious, she remained soft in Jo’s hands and never tried to leave, ran off, or quit. Each time, Treasure was able to calm herself down within just a few minutes and was even able to stop and stand quietly when Jo asked her to.

“Things that I used to get from my horses, such as lead changes and four-stride trot/canter/trot transitions . . . I see those things now as gifts. Gifts that were in that moment, willingly given from my horse to me. I think there is definitely a connection between what I am able to give my horse and what the horse is able to give back to me. “Things like technique, mechanics, and goals shouldn’t ever compromise the gifts from the horse. If we begin trying to get those gifts ‘on demand’ or take the gifts from the horse, we can create some problems. You can ask for a gift, but you can’t just take it. Taking too many of these gifts without giving enough back to the horse will run the risk of extinguishing the try in the horse and eroding the relationship between the horse and rider. So I’m thinking that these gifts simply have to follow a cycle. I give to the horse so the horse can give to me, and it just keeps going. And there is such joy in giving. “Overall, I feel like I’m just trying to rediscover the connections I had with horses when I was just a kid and I rode by the seat of my pants and didn’t ’know’ anything. Not that there wasn’t plenty of fumbling around on my part, but things always had a way of working out. The pure wonder and joy of just being on, or even around, horses. And of course that wonderful smell!

“I think I was riding with my heart and not my head back then. I was basing pretty much everything on feel because that’s all I had. If I got too cocky, my horse would ’remind’ me to pay attention to the feel. Somehow I lost touch with that. Not totally, by any stretch, but I had lost some of it and I reckon that’s what I’m trying to get back to.

“I’m not saying that I think goals are bad. They can give direction and purpose. But the problem I see with being too goal-oriented is that it can be awfully easy to lose sight of the moment, to become so focused on the destination that you miss the journey.

“I am beginning to realize that a person never gets ’there.’ This is really a journey with no destination. It is an unending process. Everything that is important is ’as you go,’ not when you ’get there,’ because there is no there! It has taken me such a long, long time to realize this!”

Oftentimes we get so hung up on accomplishing goals or relying on techniques or methods that we don’t allow that piece of ourselves—the piece that lets the horse know we can be trusted—to shine through. We can’t force our horse to trust us. It doesn’t work that way. Trust is something that must be earned. It has been my experience, however, that once that trust is earned, all the goals are so much easier to accomplish. In the end, all we really have is ourselves and our horses. No technique, tool, or tack is going to change that. But then, I guess, when it gets down to it, perhaps it never should.