Heartland Horse Heroes Second – Inner City Slickers Day

Howdy Folks,

Saturday, October 18, Heartland Horse Heroes held their second Inner City Slickers (ICS) day. ICS, founded by Michael McMeel, former drummer for Three Dog Night, is a program where at-risk youth spend a day on a ranch, farm or equestrian center learning through ranch and equestrian chores, activities and fun, by the "Cowboy Code," they indeed are important, they have purpose, can build self esteem, trust and feel honor. There is a real magic in the day and you can read more about Michael and ICS HERE.

Heartland Horse Heroes had invited girls from the Discovery School, and beforehand we had asked for each girl to write a short note about themselves, their fears, worries and why they were at the Discovery School. Michael and I reviewed the stories Friday evening, and they were so sad, tough to read. These 11 girls ranged in age between 12 and 17 and each had already in their young lives endured so much. No wonder self esteem, trust and honor were foreign to them. Let me mention here, we could not hold this program without our fantastic volunteers, some of whom drove 3 and 6 hours to be there.

LaRue Sprouse talking about holding onto your dreams no matter the obstacles

The day started with the participants' arrival, LaRue Sprouse, owner of Sprouses' Corner Ranch and host of Heartland Horse Heroes led them on a short farm tour. She paused at the big show ring and spoke about her own dreams, and the hurdles she needed to overcome to realize them. I took the moment to build on that and encouraged them to look around at the beauty, the horses, the world that LaRue had created. We talked about holding fast to your dream, expect people to tell you, "you can't do it," and forging ahead anyway - The only negativity that can touch you is what you allow, so you have it in your power to brush it aside, to grab your dream.

Michael explains the power of self confidence.

Michael began to talk and engage them, he asked real questions about being let down, about trust, respect. I watched closely their faces, saw some ready to trust him, others roll their eyes as if to say, "Heard all this before, no-one cares." He painted pictures they could see with his words, promised he would always be there for them, promised they could trust him, and themselves, and told them today would be a journey of building trust, confidence and self respect. He asked on a scale of 1 to 10 how much they trusted him – it varied from 5 to minus 8. He was cool with that and said it was a lot better than minus 10, we all had a nice chuckle and a bit of an engaging chat. But half the faces remained hard.

We then handed out journals, and asked them to write their first thoughts of how they felt that moment. On the first page is pasted the commitment they must sign "I believe in myself – If I fall I will get up – If I'm beaten I will return – I will never stop getting better – I will NEVER give up – EVER!" Each time they open their journal they will see their commitment. We encouraged them to write in it daily happy, sad, mad – it doesn't matter, write it.

We created teams or "posses" who would work and play and take the challenges together. Some of the activities were competition, each posse member would help, support and encourage the team. And we set out about the glorious day. First we worked, real ranches have real work, we mucked paddocks and cleaned tack. Of course at first there was a bit of confusion, hesitation but as minutes wore on teamwork and cooperation began to lighten the load, and faces. Always Michael was there to encourage and inspire, as he promised he would be. All the volunteers were, too.

The "Fall Of Faith"

The first challenge was the "Fall Of Faith." A 10 foot step ladder the girls were to step up as high as they could bear, cross their arms and fall back, trusting that the adults, and a few team members would catch them. Great fear and doubt kept anyone from being willing, but Michael reminded them, he, and all of us were there to catch them, they would never fall alone. Eventually one girl went first to great cheers! Then another and another, the cheers and encouragement got louder, funnier and soon even the most timid girl took the fall ... Several insisted on going again as they wanted to step higher up the ladder. I studied their faces, by the end of this first challenge not a single face lacked a smile, all hard faces had melted a little already. And Michael's lowest score was now minus 5.

Relaxing in the sun for lunch

Then lunch, which proved to be a circus of laughter and giggles as each girl relived their "not very scary" fall of faith. Michael drifted among them, as we sat in the sun warmed grass, and told stories about everything from his recording and TV and acting days to his first horse. Then he started roping the "straw steers" and some of the girls had short but successful lariat tossing lessons.

 

Learning about balance, trust and connection with Sandman's help

It was time to ride now, and LaRue's fine and devoted lesson horses, Donny, Sandman and Penny entered the ring. A few girls were extremely eager, a few timid, a few refused, at first. Now riding time at a "Slicker" is about much more than riding, which is done bareback. It's about discovering the spirit of the horse, learning to hear the horse and facing fears, if there are any, with the help of the horse. I gave a little talk on the connection between horses and humans while volunteers readied the girls with helmets.  First they mingled with the horses, some touched, others hugged, and finally a few rode. And with Michael's promised support and encouragement, eventually everyone rode. I noticed even the most isolated girls began to join in the fun, the posses mingled together, all helped one another. Michael's score moved up to an even zero.

Teamwork, high spirits and reaching high for a goal, the Cowboy Toothpick

For the next hour we played confidence and team and trust building games, the "Cowboy Toothpick," a 12 foot high pole and each posse collaborates to drop 3 rings over the top – it takes real teamwork to get a posse member up that high! But with effort, teamwork and plenty of cheering and laughter they got it done, together!

 

Ridin' high with new found confidence on the wild Barrel Bull (I wish I could paste here the thundering cheers of encouragement!)

The day's highlight, and most demanding and thrilling challenge, the barrel bull ride, was saved for last. Each step of the way all day is carefully orchestrated to build high spirits, self confidence and trust, and even though each participant by this time had overcome fears, and built trust, in themselves, each other, Michael and our volunteers, that high swinging barrel gave them all pause ... For about a minute. Then cries of encouragement convinced one girl to ride high, and soon everyone rode the barrel bull, laughing, screaming and loving it. Michael told them, "It only takes balance, just like life."

Ending the day with thoughts about living and loving life with self respect, courage, faith, dreams and purpose.

We ended the day back in the barn where we all talked at once, laughed about the silliness of the day and congratulated everyone on their success and spirit of going for it. I looked carefully at tired, dirty, happy faces ... not a single uninterested or hard face could be found. I got the feeling for some of them it may well have been the most fun day they could remember, perhaps ever had. Michael assured them he, and we, would always be there for them, they were never alone again, they could contact him, or us, anytime. for any reason. Michael asked them to write another entry in their journals, that they might have today to turn to, always. Michael's "trust" score had skyrocketed to 15!

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

Photos by Connie Bloss and Cynthia Drew -

Grandpop – "Of Course I love My Country, I'm Just Not Sure I Recognize It Anymore."

Howdy Friends,

They told me at the house Grandpop had saddled ol' Blue and set out on a moon light trek to the campsite. That's all I needed to know something was bothering him. It was a two hour ride to the knob Grandpop called the campsite, and neither he nor Blue should make that trip alone, and certainly not by the light of a sliver of a moon. I hustled to the pastures behind the barn, caught the first horse I could, saddled in a hurry and rode out. Clouds covered the moon and I couldn't see the ground my horse trod over. But miles away I saw the tiny flicker of a campfire on the knob.

Most every horse Grandpop kept in his remuda knew the way to the knob. The knob was Grandpop's second favorite place on the ranch; he and Mom had picnicked there countless times and, until her final year, always celebrated their anniversary with a campfire taking in the view. His favorite place was anywhere he sat a horse. In recent years his trips to the knob had lessened, but every horse had been there dozens of times over the years. The last time I'd been to the knob was a year or so ago when Grandpop took a young reporter who had come to write a story about Grandpop and the ranch. I gave my horse a friendly pat on his neck, "You know the way, take your time old fellow. Watch your step but get us up there, gotta check in on Grandpop."

The final assent wound its way ever steeper between boulders, trees and drop offs. I offered no direction to my horse, he knew every step to take without interference from me. I chuckled when I remembered that reporter, all jealous of Grandpop's ranch, so certain someone had stacked the deck to give Grandpop an easy route to success, because that's how he "knew" things happened. I chuckled again when I remembered what Grandpop had told him as he guided the city fellow in the art of campfire building, and self reliance – "These days there's too much talk about some folks havin' more than others and being angry and jealous about it. There's an old cowboy sayin' … God put the firewood in the woods for everybody, it's up to each of us to gather it and build our campfire. That's the story you should write, young fella."

Grandpop's silhouette by the fire greeted us as we broke into the clearing. Without words, he tipped his hat and motioned for me to join him. I tied my horse next to ol' Blue, and settled onto the carved log bench across the fire from him. He tossed a split chunk of wood onto the fire sending sparks and crackles high. From the pile of freshly split wood I figured he'd worked out at least some of his frustrations. But by his silent stare out over the black valley below, I knew not all sat square with him.

"Sometimes I have a hard time figurin' out the new way of thinkin', Son." He pulled his hat and shoved gnarled fingers through his thin gray hair. His eyes sparkled with light from the dancing flames. His stooped shoulders told of decades of hard work. I knew he wasn't looking for a comment from me. I knew he was hurting.

"I lost a lot of friends over there fighting for what we thought was right. Fighting to protect freedom. Your mom and I tried our best to be good parents, good stewards of the land, and good citizens. Honor, respect, love for our country, Son, they used to mean things."

I watched his eyes as he spoke. I couldn't tell if the shine in them was firelight, or tears.

"I can't wrap my brain around this idea of our country being the cause of problems all over the world. Can't almost tolerate watchin' the news anymore, ruckus in the streets, folks hating each other. College professors and school teachers teachin' the youngins ours is an evil country that steals from every other country. Young'ins bein' taught what to think, not how to think. This group hatin' that group, and far too many folks who don't even know the meaning of respect, and love of country. Strangest thing of all to me is all these folks from all over the world breakin' their backs to get here, and folks born here can only see how bad a place it is."

He cradled his face in his hands, sighed then leveled the hardest stare my way I'd seen in years.

"Of course I love my country, I'm just not sure I recognize it anymore … Could be I'm just an old man whose ideas ain't worth much, but I reckon folks better soon figure out a way to love this good ol' United States of America, find some old fashioned patriotic spirit, or it's gonna fade into darkness and wither away like a passing day. Then what are they gonna have … ?"

I had no answer.

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

This is the Eleventh in my series of Grandpop stories. I began writing about Grandpop, June 27, 2013, with what at the time I imagined what would be a standalone short story, "Perhaps I've Just Lived Too Long." You can read that story (and find links to go on) (HERE)   Folks said they enjoy visiting with Grandpop, so I wrote more. Frankly, I enjoy him too.

"Why horses, (and People,) Trust Some People and Doubt Others"

Howdy Friends,

Did you ever notice how some horses just seem to read their person's mind? How they seem to always be on the same page? A real solid, dependable team? Did you wonder about, perhaps get a little envious, surely curious, as to how that can be? It has a lot to do with consistency, but it has a lot to do with a person's emotional stability too. Which I guess is a big part of constancy.

We were in the field doing stuff and I had to sit to rest my legs. Kessy came and stood with me until I could get up. Which I did by taking hold of her mane and asking her to back up. She pulled me to my feet!

It also has a lot to do with the person's self confidence, and the ability to respectfully display that self confidence. Horses (and people too) want teammates, partners, and friends they can count on to be there for them. To lead them, hear them, consider their point of view. And yes horse's all have their own point of view and it can, and will, meld with ours. They key is to be self confident enough to look and listen for it. Not to correct, or discipline, but rather to support, guide, teach and empower.

I'm all for praising a horse's misstep, wrong move, or confusion. The key is to praise and support the attempt, no matter how tiny – not correct the misstep or wrong move. Go with the mistake, see where it leads. Improvements leading to perfection come far sooner with mountains of self confident praise, than with buckets of corrections and discipline. Take the mistake, or miscue and redo the exercise or movement seeking improvement in baby steps along the way.

My mentor, Diane Sept, used to say, "Carry yourself in a way that commands respect." I like to add, "And be sure you give it too, in the form of praise."

Praise for a horse (or person) can be a big deal. "GOOD GIRL!" and a pat on the neck, make a big show of it. Or it can be a simple, quiet acknowledgement of a job, task or cooperation well done. Your horse will tell you which she needs. If you listen.

Self confidence and emotional stability means you'll be consistently supportive. You won't, "fly off the handle," and scold, correct harshly, intimidate and confuse your horse ... How can a horse become soft, trusting, truly cooperative, if they must always be on guard for the next explosion of discipline? … I actually believe it is never okay to discipline a horse … well never with a few exceptions related to safety and health ... Self confident instruction based upon solid respectful teamwork and cooperation, will always build a solid relationship of trust. Every time.

Let's look at stepping into the saddle - I'll use my mare Kessy as an example. When we first partnered she would not even come within five feet of the mounting block. If she did, she wasn't going to stand to mount. (Of course you must first be absolutely certain there is no physical reason she can't stand still.) I had to think of how I could help her understand this really mattered to me. Back then I could still mount from a 2 step block, so I set it next to the barn wall allowing just enough room for her to stand, and we started mounting that way. If she moved forward, I would simply lead her around without a word, and stand her next to the block again. When in the correct position I would ask her to, "Stand." After mounting I'd give her a bit of carrot. (Still do, it's a kind of flexation exercise) We did this for a while, then eventually I moved the block away from the wall, and it no longer mattered where, or how we mounted. She just needed that little bit of guidance and support the barn wall offered her as she was making sense of the mounting deal. Today, she'll not move a hoof until I ask her to, "Walk on." Never once did I scold, yank on the reins, or demand she, "Stand Still!" We've all seen that, right? … 

As time went on it became necessary for me to mount and dismount from a platform, and it's quite an ordeal some days. She stands like a concrete statue as I clamber aboard. It's a confidence built of trust, and that trust builds a desire to not only cooperate, but be there for me. Kessy knows I'll not let my emotions take over and yell at her when she gets things a bit wrong. She knows I'll support her just as she supports me.

Kessy stands like a statue for me to mount and dismount, as long as it takes. If I'm really struggling she'll even lean into it!

I'll take a bit farther. I have bad health days and not so bad health days. Kessy knows the difference. She's always beyond perfect for mounting and dismounting, tacking, grooming, hoof care, all ground tied ... but once we're on the trail she either treads along gently and slowly, or as is her core nature, frolics and announces her attitude – depending on my ability to sit the saddle. This cooperation is born of a bond built on trust, not discipline.

The secret to those horses who seem to be able to read their person's mind? I believe it's as simple as being able to trust their person to be both emotionally balanced and consistent. And respectful.

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry, and Kessy too.

Grandpop and Sportsmanship

Howdy Folks,

This is the Seventh in my series of Grandpop stories. I began writing about Grandpop, June 27, 2013, with what at the time I imagined what would be a standalone short story, "Perhaps I've Just Lived Too Long." You can read that story (and find links to go on) (HERE)   Folks said they like visiting with Grandpop, so I wrote more. Frankly, I enjoy him too. I hope you enjoy today's visit with Grandpop.

"Grandpop and Sportsmanship"

 

"Hey good to see ya, young fella," Grandpop stopped brushing ol' Blue, and waved me into the barn. I was surprised to find him in the barn. Usually on Sunday afternoons he'd take in a football game or two relaxing in his recliner drinking coffee and helping the coaches by talking to the TV screen. I'd long ago lost any serious interest in the NFL, but had to admit watching with Grandpop was still a treat I looked forward to every now and then. Thinking about it, those Sunday game gatherings had begun to dwindle in the past few years.

Kessy, Saturday & me writing a story

"No game on today?" I paused to give ol' Blue a friendly scratching on his shoulder.

Grandpop moved to Blue's tail and brushed the full length with slow, deliberate strokes. "None that interest me. I reckon things change and it's hard for an old fella to keep up."

"How's that?"

"It just doesn't seem to be the same sport anymore. Of course they say your memory lets you remember things the way you want to, and polish those memories up a bit, but it feels like the game lost some of its dignity." Grandpop paused to examine Blue's shinny tail. ""It feels hollow now, just about winning … at any cost."

I felt him study my face, well yea I thought, winning is why they practice, and show up. He must have heard my thoughts; he's good at that, because he answered me.

"Oh yea, a team's got to win, but where'd the sportsmanship go? All you hear about now is concussions, players switching teams for more money, and this thing a little while back about coaches paying players to take out the other team's players. That's not sportsmanship. It's not fun to listen to, and I think it's a foolish example for our young'ins."

"Don't you think it's more about the news folks just wanting to hype stories?" 

"They couldn't hype 'em if it wasn't going on. What I worry about is the steady drift to winning at all cost is so acceptable. I remember the first time I thought uh-oh, back a good while when an NFL coach told a reporter on the sideline after a game he does not go shake hands with the opposing coach, he wants to beat him, not be his friend. That's not sportsmanship, I thought way back then already."

"I think I remember that." I said.

"It's a busier, faster world now than we could have ever imagined and it's easy to focus on the outcome more than the journey. I worry that the young'ins might miss learning that. True sportsman has a way of teaching respect, honor and dignity. Sometimes it's good to loose, builds character. Today I think it's hard for youngsters to find good role models."

Grandpop led Blue out to his paddock and stood, leaning on him soaking up the warm sun. "We used to say 'never let the end justify the means.' Now even our government leaders seem to have turned that on its head and the teachings and beliefs seem to be, win at any cost, and the means don't matter. A body can lie, break the rules, even cheat - if they win, well then by golly it's just dandy. I'm not foolish enough to think there wasn't always some of that, but it wasn't seen as a good thing. Used to be if a fella got caught lying or cheating it ruined him, today it's excused, almost celebrated as courage, because you've got to win … Today it seems popular to insist the end justifies the means. I don't think that's good sportsmanship. I think it's backwards. And I don't think it's good for our young'ins to grow up thinking it's okay. But I'm just an ol' cowboy."

He slid the halter off ol' Blue and we moseyed to the porch for some more talk and a pot of hot black coffee. We never did watch a game that day.

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry