Like most adult riders, I don’t really want to invest my precious ride time working on ground manners. My horse does most of what I ask much of the time, and I’ve been quite willing to let minor infractions slide. Trouble is, horses are like super-sized toddlers—let them get away with little things and they’ll challenge your authority when more important issues arise. Put another way: letting your horse get away with the small stuff teaches him to ignore your authority—which you will regret at some point.

Let’s talk about my own horse. He and I make a good bad example. Nick’s a basically nice guy who I’ve spoiled through my own laziness. How’s that for blunt?

I let Nick get away with lots of minor infractions that finally added up to one major problem. Nick decided that he didn’t want to and didn’t have to get in the trailer. If I had a helper, he’d get in beautifully. But, should I be stuck on my own (which I most often am), Nick learned that he could fart around, make me mad, and avoid getting in the trailer quite effectively. Aargh.

I tried “Be Nice” type halters, lunge ropes, lunge whips, and so on. One method would work for a while, then he’d figure a way to outsmart me once again. Trying to have a helper on hand for trailering was simply too inconvenient. Nick and I needed professional help.

Rebecca Wirth came highly recommended so I gave her a call. I appreciated the fact that she’d come to my place for a reasonable rate. She arrived with an assortment of whips, a set of gloves, and a lunge line, ready to help.

Nick took one look at Rebecca and darted out the door of his stall, into his paddock. “Fine,” Rebecca said, “Let’s start here. If he’s going to move off, it’s going to be my idea.”

Rebecca used a dressage whip and simply asked Nick to start, stop, back, and change direction a few times. He came to a halt pretty quickly, sensing Rebecca knew what she was doing.

To Nick’s surprise, Rebecca was only getting started. She asked him to lower his head for her to put the halter on. “As a rule of thumb, his eye shouldn’t be higher than your eye,” she said. “Start by putting light pressure on the poll, increase as needed until he lowers his head.” Nick complied and Rebecca gave him a quick massage at the poll, which he enjoyed. “You want to repeat this a lot,” Rebecca suggested, “It will make him easier to bridle and manage.”

Rebecca attached a lunge line to Nick’s halter and asked him to move forward at the walk correctly. This meant without haunches or shoulders swinging in or out, without turning his head in toward or away from her, and at the pace she asked for. Rebecca interjected a series of halts, backing, and finally moved up to trot.

What was new to Nick and I was Rebecca’s exacting manner. When she asked for a halt, she expected it to be immediate and square. When she asked Nick to back, she asked for a specific number of steps and straight. Corrections were quick and clear. In addition to the whip, Rebecca uses her voice to tell a horse when a response is incorrect. A quick but firm “Ah, ah!” let Nick know when he’d made an error.

“Imagine a rectangle drawn around your horse,” Rebecca said. “You want to control the placement of each foot within the rectangle at all times. If he moves out of the rectangle, correct him.”

“Treat every infraction as seriously as you would having him stand on your foot,” she emphasized.

Like a toddler, Nick threw a tantrum when things stopped going his way. When pushed to do things precisely, Nick kicked out, pinned his ears, tried throwing his haunches to the inside and out, and generally objected to Rebecca’s terms. Rebecca simply kept at it and Nick relented. As far as Nick’s “over-reacting” to her requests, Rebecca commented that he is not a bad horse, he’d simply learned that this behavior worked. My horse was a drama queen.

While Nick lunges reasonably well, Rebecca reinforced the aids asking for a clear and immediate response. She used the dressage whip at the withers to tell him to go forward, using the verbal command, “Step.” To gain better control of the haunches, Rebecca came in close to Nick’s shoulder, turned his head toward her, and used a longer whip to ask his haunches to step over (a forehand turn), one step at a time. Nick knows this cue but it’s one he chooses to tune out when he feels like it. Rebecca also showed him the reverse forehand turn, reaching around and pointing at his hip to move toward her. He met his match in Rebecca, who was exacting in her requests for single, precise steps. The handler—not the horse—gets to decide where she wants each and every foot at all times.

If you’re this exacting with your horse, congratulations! If not, read on. Even if your horse loads beautifully, does he stand quietly for grooming, tacking up, and mounting? This exercise will help you both on the ground and under saddle, as your horse gains respect for you as the dominant leader of the herd.

Rebecca demonstrated how to work with a horse on a longer line. “He needs to be able to think on his own, away from you,” she said. Nick learned to stand squarely on a long line, away from his handler. He also learned to stand with his weight squarely balanced…no leaning.

Having established the basics with Nick in his paddock, Rebecca lead him out to the trailer. En route, Nick decided to move off at his own pace—which Rebecca corrected. The handler should set the pace at all times, as opposed to accommodating the horse’s pace. With a light tap of the dressage whip and her voice, Rebecca asked Nick to slow down, back, and come forward on her terms. Rebecca suggested that I practice varying my own pace and expect Nick to pay attention and respond accordingly.

We took our imaginary rectangle out to the trailer and parked it in front of the ramp. Rebecca asked Nick to keep his body lined up straight, in front of the right side of the trailer ramp. Aware that trailer loading was coming next, Nick demonstrated varying degrees of fuss, including kicking, pawing, and foot stomping, in objection to Rebecca’s control of his feet.

Rebecca quickly and quietly corrected Nick as he demonstrated his favorite trailer trick, throwing his haunches to the side, trying to escape out to the right side of the trailer.

“Focus on his feet,” Rebecca suggested, “They tell us what he’s thinking.” Indeed, Nick stood squarely on all four feet when he was in full compliance with Rebecca’s requests. When thinking of escaping, Nick was unbalanced, poised in a “get away” position.

Removing the focus from “get in the trailer” to “stay within the rectangle” helped take the fight out of the exercise. For me, it gave me something simple yet positive to focus on. For Nick, it was a mental exercise that required him to accept that the handler has authority. Controlling the feet ultimately means controlling the entire horse.

After Nick obediently responded to the rectangle concept in front of the trailer, Rebecca began asking him to move up, onto the ramp, one foot at a time. She asked him to back, as well, staying straight. Nick tried throwing his haunches once again and Rebecca reminded him that the rectangle rules still applied.

It’s important to note that Rebecca watched Nick’s behavior closely and was very quick to praise correct responses. “If you don’t reward his attempts to try, he’ll give up,” Rebecca said. Indeed, you could see the wheels turning in Nick’s head as he tried to work things out.

Rebecca emphasized that we want to keep the horse’s personality intact. We want him to choose to submit, rather than force him.

“He’ll trailer better when he learns to load better,” Rebecca said. “You’ll find that he’ll be able to relax more once he accepts that you’re the decision maker—which will make him a better horse under saddle, as well.”

Rebecca made a prediction. “Most horses will get worse right before they give in. Which is a shame, because that’s when most people give in.” Indeed, Nick gave a last blast before choosing to submit. After about an hour and half of work, Nick quietly stepped onto the ramp, into the trailer. With a little more work he quietly backed out straight. I was all smiles. Not only had we not used force, we’d learned some important lessons.

Nick got a big pat, a treat, and some turnout. He was worn out from all that thinking.

But the job wasn’t done. In the following days I repeated Rebecca’s ground work at home, away from the trailer. My own attitude had to shift, no longer accepting half-hearted responses from my horse. I had to become more exacting with my horse and my self.

The first time I loaded Nick on my own he got right in the trailer—and flew back out again. Not good enough! We went back to the rectangle exercise and within an hour and a half I had him loading and unloading quietly. I heard Rebecca’s voice in my head: watch his feet, focus on the rectangle, reward honest attempts, he’ll get worse right before he gives in. I kept my focus and my temper and celebrated when Nick quietly went into and out of the trailer on my terms.

Two days later, we shortened our load time to half an hour. Since then we’re down to a quick, quiet response without any fuss. However, I know I’m undoing years of bad training. I practice what I’ve learned each time I work with Nick: asking him to lower his head, walk at my pace, and stand within the rectangle of my choice. I’ve begun working on ground tying (rather than relying on cross ties) and asking Nick to stand quietly for his bath. (No more dancing in the aisle way.)

Thanks to Rebecca, Nick and I have turned a corner in our relationship. To return to the parent/child analogy, it’s time for me to stop trying to be a best friend and to be more of an authority. Someone has to be the boss and I’ve decided it’s going to be me.

They call it ground “work” for a reason: it does take time and focus. Is it worth it? Ask Nick: he’s becoming a better horse because of our work together. And as for me, I’m holding myself to a higher standard as well. And now, time for a well-deserved canter ‘round the field.

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