In the Heart of a Mustang

He walked to the fence and climbed up. Smokey was in the center of the pen with the same horse he was working with on Saturday. This time, Smokey was not turned away from him but, instead, was moving around in a small circle with his right arm outstretched, holding the white stick that had a colored flag on the end. As he moved in a counter-clockwise circle, the horse moved as well, hugging the fence but keeping an ear cocked always toward him. As the horse cantered around the edge of the pen, Smokey calmly followed with his arm, as though he was pushing him from behind. He kept his body turned directly toward the horse’s side.

After a few minutes, the horse slowed to a trot and turned his head toward Smokey. In response to this, Smokey switched the stick to the left hand and took a large step toward the horse’s head. Immediately, the horse squealed, pinned his ears back, turned his body around and went the other way, picking up the canter again. Smokey nonchalantly followed with the stick pointing toward the horse’s haunches and walked in a small clockwise circle as the horse cantered around the pen. Each time the horse neared Hunter, he swerved away, kicking up dust into the boy’s face. But, all the while, the wild horse continued to keep his attention on Smokey. When the horse slowed to a trot, Smokey switched the stick to the right hand again and stepped toward the horse’s head. The horse whirled around and headed back in a counter-clockwise direction but this time, he didn’t squeal or pin back his ears and he went off in a trot instead of a canter.

After a few more changes in direction, the horse came to a stop and turned to face Smokey. While softly humming a song, Smokey lowered his stick and his head and slowly walked back and forth in front of the horse. Hunter noticed that each time he changed direction he angled a little closer to the horse. The horse’s ears pricked forward as he kept both eyes on the old cowboy, but he didn’t move. When he was within a few feet of the horse, Smokey reached the stick slowly toward him and gently rubbed his face. The horse did not move. Smokey stepped forward another foot and casually extended his hand. The horse jerked his head up but still did not move. Smokey held his hand in place until the horse lowered his head. Gently, Smokey rubbed the horse’s head right between his eyes, still humming his song.

Smokey turned and walked away from the horse and up to Hunter. “We’ll let him think about that for a few minutes,” the old cowboy said with a smile. “Hop down here. It’s your turn now.”