Читать книгу Finding the Missed Path. The Art of Restarting Horses онлайн

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“Would it be okay with you if we turned him into the big arena, there?” I asked.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not going to get him caught if we put him out there,” she replied with a hint of caution in her voice.

“I’m not really all that concerned about catching him right now,” I shrugged.

Marie was hesitant, but agreed. She opened the gates to the alley that bridged the gap from the round pen to the arena. No sooner had the gates been open and she stepped away when the gelding shot through the alley and into the arena. I closed the gate behind him as he took off for the south end of the arena. He made a large arcing turn and then ran as hard as he could for the north end where he made another arcing turn and headed back full speed to the south end.

He ran the entire length of the arena three more times before finally slowing to a worried stop over near the southeast corner. After he had settled a bit, I made my way to the middle of the arena. Just that one simple act on my part caused the gelding to start walking and then trotting a small circle, but not really moving away from that corner. Once I was able to get to the middle of the arena and stand quietly for a few minutes, he went back to his original spot in the corner, stopped, looked at me head high and ears erect, and then blew a loud warning snort through his nose.