Developing a relationship with my horse when I was young taught me a lot about relationships overall. Joker taught me that we did best together when we both gave in a bit to one another’s demands.
When I was a teenager my father bought me a horse. Joker was an average-sized white gelding that had spent a number of years in service at a riding school. He knew what to do and how to do it, but sometimes he lacked the motivation to do as requested. I was big and strong and knew how to get him to do what I wanted. I wasn’t afraid of him and he knew that. He also knew that he couldn’t get away with anything unless I allowed it.
A mind of his own
Sometimes Joker was spirited and at other times he was almost lethargic. Some days when I would saddle him up and take him out of the barn, it would be all that I could do to get him to head away. I urged, I cajoled, I kicked him in the ribs with the side of my foot, but he would only really go smartly when he wanted to. Most days he seemed to fight me every step of the way out of the barnyard. His front legs would stiffen and brace against forward movement. Every step seemed forced and exaggerated, an articulated movement.
Green pastures
Things were always better once we got into the meadow or onto a trail. Joker would forget the fight that we had just had to get away from the barn and most of the time I would have a great ride. He would look around actively and be very engaged, but I always had to work him. This was no easy partnership with the two of us working as one.
Hell-bent for leather
Once I turned his nose toward home, he was like a new horse, an animal possessed. What had been a reluctant or controlled canter when we were just riding would become a spirited gallop as we turned for home. I always felt a level of trepidation as we got closer to the barn, wondering if one of my siblings had forgotten and left the barn door open. The one time that they did, we entered the barn at almost top speed with me hanging off to the side to avoid being knocked off. For the most part, I loved the thrill of the hell-bent-for-leather rush home, and I know that Joker did as well.
Strong personality
It would be easy to write off Joker and say that he was a lazy, difficult horse. He certainly was that, but he also was spirited, athletic and graceful. If he had been a person, he would have been opinionated, with a view on everything. He would have been one of those people with unfulfilled potential, who would work just hard enough to not fail but never hard enough to excel. He would have frustrated many for the waste of his potential. He would have had few friends for all of his difficultness.
Common horse behavior
I was a devoted horse lover and would talk to other horse owners about Joker’s behavior. More times than not, I heard that the difficulty that I had getting Joker away from home was, in fact, quite common. It seemed that many horses had to be coaxed, cajoled and kicked in the ribs to get away from the barn and down to work. Most days I was up to the task because the overall result was enjoyable. Other days it was an ordeal that left me feeling drained from having to work so hard at something that should have been such a pleasure.
Active negotiations
I learned a lot from that horse. I had to actively ride him all the time, because he wouldn’t inherently do the right thing. He knew what I wanted but he wouldn’t just give it to me – I had to work to get it. I recognized that it was a daily negotiation to get away from the barn. I gave him his head as much as I could. When he thought he was in control, his gait was a little more spirited and lively, and we both enjoyed that more. I gave in and loved it when we headed for home at full speed.
In hindsight, I learned a lot more from Joker than just how to ride a horse.
