The Soul of a Horse Read Online Free PDF Page A

means. It does seem familiar.
    Somewhere, deep down in her brain, her genetics were finally bubbling to the surface, freed at last from the perspective of the old cowboy.
    The next morning when I went down to the stables to feed and muck, I realized for the first time how completely the Join-Up process had transformed Mariah. She was a different horse, waiting by her stall gate, head stretched toward me, and she didn’t move until I came over and gave her a sniff and a rub. A scratch under her jaw at the bend of the neck was her favorite. It became ritual. Every morning. And I dared not ignore her or she would scold me with a soft whinny or a snort. And then pull away when I finally came over, just for a moment, to let me know I had been naughty.
    The simple act of giving her the choice of whether or not to be with me, of viewing all of her issues from her perspective, not from mine, had changed everything.
    The new Mariah is as affectionate as Cash, as willing and giving, as anxious to see us…and until Skeeter came along, she was Kathleen’s favorite.
    I can’t help but wonder what the old cowboy would think if he knew that Mariah had learned what it means to trust.

5
    Raison d’Être

    T he herd was tiring. The big mare could sense it. They had run for quite some time. But it was working. She had discovered the concept quite by accident.
    The last time man had come after her herd, there were only two choices: a box canyon where they had gone once before and been trapped or the wide-open plains. She had chosen the wide-open run and the pursuers had finally given up. To the matriarch’s surprise. Was her herd that much better than the horses chasing them? She had no way of knowing how living with man might affect them.
    Whatever it was, it was also working this time. The herd’s pursuers were slowing down and dropping off.
    As they ran on, the stallion was becoming concerned. Would the very youngest among his herd be able to keep up the pace? But just as one little filly began to drop behind, the last of the pursuing horses stumbled, almost losing his rider, and they turned back, quitting the chase.
    The mare slowed to an easy canter, but kept moving for a while before bringing the herd to a halt. She scanned the horizon in all directions. Night was falling. Would the pursuers be back tomorrow? Would they try to sneak up on them during the night? She would be prepared.
    She showed the herd that she was relaxed, at least for the moment, and they began to graze. All except a small sorrel mare who was designated sentry. She would be watching, always watching. And listening, aware of everything.
    The big palomino shook off the chill of night air settling upon his sweaty body and wandered through the herd to check for injuries. As before, there were none. Not even among the young. He was proud of that. His herd was well conditioned, and their feet were rock solid.
    A harsh nicker drew his attention. The young colt was at it again and the matriarch was dealing with him. The stallion would leave it to her. He was tired, and perhaps a bit of sleep would be good.
    Good sleep. Not the standing kind.
    He made his way into the middle of the herd and eased down onto the ground. The herd would keep him surrounded until he woke.

6
    The Starting Gate

    “T hat horse is mean. He was born mean!”
    It was a trainer at the local horse club speaking.
    I didn’t believe him.
    There was a time when I would have. But Monty and well-known natural horsemen like Pat Parelli, John Lyons, renowned equine vet Dr. Robert M. Miller, and a host of others say no horse is born mean. They are made mean by humans, usually because the human doesn’t understand or doesn’t want to deal with the concept that the horse is a flight animal. Flight is so embedded in their genetic makeup that reaction is automatic. Any sound, or smell, or flicker of movement that is unfamiliar can cause them to erupt.
React first, ask questions later.
    And some folks read