To the Wolves

By Nicole A. Musmanno

Recently my friend gave birth to a little boy.  He came early and surprised everyone.  During the hospital stay, I managed my friend’s six horses and two sheep.  The excitement of the new arrival and the coming home of a now complete family apparently proved effervescent, as their arrival was announced by a Carnival scene over the front entrance, a deluge of glossy, helium balloons in every shape, color and size.  Among the balloons was one galloping paint pony balloon because the baby will be an international level equestrian some day (we all know this).  Renaissance festival type flags billowed in the breeze from the archway over the entrance to the property, and of course there was a HUGE banner announcing the new arrival’s name.

Not wanting to bother the new parents but needing to pay my respects, I went up to the house to express my happiness for their new family and to find out who played ‘the decorator’ of the front entrance.

Mom beamed as she said, “The new godfather.  He is beyond thrilled.”  Her eyes expressed a new mom’s absolute joy.  Then she added, “Funny though, he should know better since he’s a vet.  Lots of horses come by our place.  Good luck riding Slewth by tomorrow!”

Without even thinking or missing a beat I answered, “He won’t care.”  My friend let her jaw drop slightly at how nonchalantly I commented, but in a way I think she knew I was totally right.  My confidence in my horse was evident.

The next day, having completely forgotten about the Mardi Gras décor, I rode Slewth down my friend’s street.  As I neared the driveway, I looked up and saw everything still is place, balloons, banners and all.  They floated and made crinkling sounds as some had lost helium.  The flags rustled a bit.  My horse lifted his head as slowly as I did, not cautiously but rather as if to acknowledge, “Oh yeah, they decorated. How nice.”  As we neared the entrance Slewth actually began to turn into their driveway, as if we were going to use their arena like we usually do.  The balloons drifted toward him and banners still waved.  And still, no reaction from him.  It was as if the circus were an everyday occurrence.  I laughed, patted his neck and let him know there would be no arena work that day.

Not fifty feet from their property I saw what looked like a large snake basking in the spring sun.  “Okay,” I thought, “Now this is something I have not been through with Slewth.” As we neared the Bull snake, he began to move off.  Slewth cocked his head as if to consider the grace of the snake’s movements and did nothing more.

That is when it struck me, I have a trained horse and we did that together. As a youngster, I took to throwing him to the wolves, but in so doing I joined him with the wolves and let him know I would guide us through it. As a three year-old I had him in a cow pasture so as to never have that “Cow Spook” that plagues so many riders at shows. I bagged him, flagged him, roped him which was really more me throwing ropes at him.  I moved things in and out of his blind spots.  In short, I did everything I could to make sure Slewth knew he could handle surprises and that he could rely on me to get him through the rough patches.  As he matured, I realized I could rely on Slewth in the same way.  There have been times when I have had to throw the reins at him and say, “Go for it buddy,” and he would get us out of whatever I had accidently gotten us into.

I did call my friend to tell her I made it past her driveway and nearly on it.  “And?” she asked.

“And nothing.  Slewth thought we were going to your arena.”

“Do you know how lucky you are to have a horse like him?” she replied in awe.

Of course I do. Slewth’s natural ability to take things in stride helped his training go smoothly, evolving into the horse I have missed since youth – a horse I could truly trust.  Dakota was that horse for me growing up, but there were many horses between Dakota and Slewth.  Some were better than others, but most ran the gamut of ‘a bit nuts.’  Not to say Slewth does not have a switch, he is after all a Thoroughbred, but when those moments happen, I still know I am safe and that we will get through it because we always do.  Because the wolves never beat trust.