A Marvelous Mustang: Tales from the Life of a Spanish Horse

By Janice Ladendorf

Books about horses are written by humans for humans. This fascinating memoir is written from the horse's point of view. It allows a real horse to tell us what he thinks of humans and how he feels about what they do with him.

To educate and entertain his herd mates, a marvelous mustang has created many tales about the first four years of his life. Humans call him Skan. His special human translates his tales for us in this entertaining autobiography.

Whether he lives in the wild or with humans, a horse's world seethes with predators. When humans take Skan off the range to live with them, his instincts and nose tell him that they want to eat him for dinner, but they don't behave like predators.

As he studies humans, he is torn between what other horses tell him about them and his own experiences with them. Do they intend to eat him or hurt him? Can he trust them to take good care of him? How do they feel towards him? Will they treat him well or ill?

As he survives multiple ordeals, he discovers how to communicate with humans. To learn what a horse needs to know to live safely and comfortably with humans, he struggles with lesson after lesson. Can one person earn his respect, his trust, and his love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janice Ladendorf
• Release date: Mar 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311791030

Janice Ladendorf

Janice Ladendorf has been working with horses for over sixty-five years. She has degrees in history and library science and has been writing for publication since 1966. She has published five books and over seventy articles. Her work is about history or horsemanship. Her memoir, A Marvelous Mustang: Tales from the Life of a Spanish Horse, is a true story, but written from the horse's point of view.

Book preview

What have reviewers said about this memoir?

A Marvelous Mustang is a fascinating story seen through the eyes of Skandranon Rashkae (Skan), a Spanish Mustang. ... As a reader, you almost believe that you are reading the horse's words as he wrote them.

Canadian Horse Journal

I enjoyed it immensely and found it all to ring true and to coincide with my own observations with starting young horses. ...This unique approach, laced with wry humor and charm, as well as touching compassion, makes the point of how we must be sensitive to horses' stresses, emotions, and anxieties.

Dressage Today

"A Marvelous Mustang is a delightful tale of a relationship between a human and a horse. Their experiences together show a beautiful bond full of mutual love and respect. I hope this book inspires other horse owners to listen to their horses and give them the life they deserve."

David William DeWispelaere (Aachen, Germany)

"A Marvelous Mustang is a wonderful read from the perspective of the horse. ... I particularly like the book as a youth choice because it is thoughtful, articulate, and precise in its nature. That along with the obvious affection for the horse makes it a superb learning tool for kids."

Lucia Roda, Windcross Conservancy

It is practical, insightful, and thought provoking. You may never think of your horse in quite the same way again.

Art Horse Magazine

This unusual memoir is ... Sometimes sad, sometimes funny.

Hoofbeats (Australia)

This is one of those interesting books that gets more interesting the more you think about it.

Horsemanship UK

A Marvelous Mustang:

Tales from the Life of a Spanish Horse

As Told To

Janice M. Ladendorf

2nd edition

2015

Text 2nd edition

Copyright © 2015 Janice M. Ladendorf

The first edition of this memoir was published in Dec. of 2010 by iUniverse.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Who Am I?

Year One (Suckling and Weanling)

Tale One: The Wild Boy

Tale Two: Freedom Lost

Tale Three: Life with Humans

Tale Four: Halter Horror

Tale Five: The Vampire Vet

Tale Six: Paradise Regained

Tale Seven: Trailer Trap

Year Two (Yearling)

Tale Eight: New Perils

Tale Nine: Horses and Humans

Tale Ten: Found - One Friend

Tale Eleven: The Hoof Man

Tale Twelve: More Lessons

Tale Thirteen: The Ultimate Trap

Tale Fourteen: Herd Leader

Tale Fifteen: Winter Lessons

Year Three (Two Year Old)

Tale Sixteen: Paradise Lost Again

Tale Seventeen: Stressed Out

Tale Eighteen: Circles, Circles, Circles

Tale Nineteen: The Saddle

Tale Twenty: Those Clumsy Humans

Year Four (Three Year Old)

Tale Twenty-One: The Driving Game

Tale Twenty-Two: That Thing on My Back

Tale Twenty-Three: The Riding Game

Year Five (Four Year Old and Beyond)

Tale Twenty-Four: Final Thoughts and Pictures of Mature Me

Author Information

Introduction

Horsemanship has been my lifelong hobby. While I worked to support myself and my horses, I spent most of my free time with my own horses: training them, riding them, taking care of them, and playing with them. I’ve also spent a lot of time observing horses, studying books about them, or writing about them.

At first, I took lessons from professionals to help me train my horses; but, for many years now, I have worked on my own with occasional help from friends.

This memoir is the story of my first four years with my Spanish Mustang. He walked out of the pages of history and into my heart. He came to me from a breeder, but had lived on the range like a wild horse. He is not a famous horse nor has he ever been shown. He is special only to me and our friends.

His story ends at a point in training where my book, Practical Dressage for Amateur Trainers, begins. The focus in that book was on the gymnastic and linguistic aspects of various exercises. I did include some general information on the emotional relationship between horse and human. I also introduced the topic of management styles that has been further developed in my articles on the philosophies of riding.

Every relationship between a human and his horse is unique to that pair. In my opinion, it can best be addressed in tales like those told by the marvelous mustang. They illuminate the time and patience required to build a partnership with a horse. They also show what using this philosophy can give to both human and horse.

As my articles indicate, it is not the only type of relationship that a human can have with a horse. There are others that may give good or bad results with individual horses. A good trainer finds the right training solutions for each individual horse.

This memoir could be classified as creative non-fiction. Most of the events in it are based on detailed written and visual records of my Spanish Mustang’s first four years with me. My interpretations of his thoughts and emotions may sound like fiction, but they are mostly translations of his behavior and body language. His opinions are not necessarily the same as mine.

In preparing to tell this story, certain assumptions were made. One is that horses can and do communicate with each other. Their language is mainly non-audible. That is one reason why they can become so skilled at reading our body language. They do use sounds, but rarely. Even when they are hurt, they prefer to remain silent to avoid attracting predators. The more you talk to them, the more words they may learn to understand. With their keen sense of smell, they also use scents as a guide to identification and emotion.

To train a horse, the human must learn to think like a horse. Since they are not predators, they do not think like humans or dogs. The trainer must also learn to read the horse’s body language. When a human listens to a horse, he or she will see many actions or cues that will serve as a guide to the best way to train that horse.

Two thirds of communication among humans is non-verbal. The cues vary with cultures and are not consciously learned. To learn a horse’s body language, a human must spend a great deal of time observing them and their behavior. He or she must notice and learn to interpret many subtle cues.

Horses are not willing to waste time and effort talking to a human who fails to listen to them. If they trust you and you listen to them, they will communicate with you in their non-verbal language. Since this language has yet to be well analyzed, learning and teaching it is not an easy task.

Extensive research has been done on the remaining herds of wild horses. It has produced some surprising results. Social behavior varies significantly from location to location. Conclusions drawn from one group may not necessarily apply to other groups. Complex relationships have been observed both within and among herds. As a species, horses are incredibly adaptable and we still have much to learn about them.

In writing this memoir, several techniques have been used to describe communication between horses. At times, a horse’s actions and body cues have been translated into English quotations. Such communication has also been occasionally described as a mental contact in the form of pictures. Some of the research on autistic people suggests that animal communication may take this form. To explain instinctive behavior, racial memories have been presented in the form of dreams.

Language is used for communication and does not stay static over time. Traditionally, grammatical rules do not allow references to animals to be personalized. This rule is changing and has been ignored in this manuscript. In my opinion, sire and dam are depersonalizing terms and I choose not to use them. Skan often vividly describes himself as marvelous me, frightened me, lonely me, etc. Despite the use of me", these phrases have been used as subjects of a sentence.

The photographs in this story are not professional ones. Over a long period of time, most of them were taken for me by our good friends, Jane Greenwood and Wes Thomsen. Others were taken by Nate Thomsen, Candace Liddy, Jamie Adams, and Kim Kingsley. As time passed, technology improved and so did the quality of the photographs. When I am with my horse, normally I wear a mask to protect my sensitive nose from dust and pollen.

Many thanks go to these people, as well as to The Tuesday Writer’s group. Their help greatly improved the quality of the final manuscript. The responsibility for any errors does, of course, rest with me.

I'm a marvelous mustang.

Only we horses can fly over the ground without wings.

Who Am I?

My registered name is Skandranon Rashkae. My friends call me, Skan. My human tells me that my name means I am black, beautiful, intelligent, brave, sensitive, affectionate, athletic, graceful, and lucky. How can I disagree with such a flattering description of my handsome talented self?

I am a Spanish Mustang. We’re tough horses and take great pride in our unusual heritage. We know our ancestors came from Spain to conquer the New World. They had to survive on the prairies, mountains, and deserts without any special care from humans. When we escaped from them, they called us mustangs.

My memoir includes many fascinating tales about my early years. Mature me created them to educate and entertain other horses. I have decided to let my special human translate them into her language. She wants other humans to better understand how we horses feel about living with them and what some of them do to us. If they did, she thought they might treat some of us more humanely.

Her version of my tales should encourage my human friends and admirers to better appreciate marvelous me. I hope you enjoy reading the story of my ordeals and adventures in your world.

Year One (Suckling Foal and Weanling)

Tale One: I enjoy life on the range with my family and learn how to live within a herd.

Tale Two: Humans tear me away from my mother and take me to live with them. They give me less freedom, but lots of good food.

Tale Three: I overcome my fear of the humans in my new life and learn to eat out of their hands. The big one teaches me to respect her.

Tale Four: I am forced to wear a halter that hurts me. The big one finds me another halter. I decide that she is my special human and I can treat her like friend. She calls me, Skan, and I call her, Wind.

Tale Five: A big mare picks on miserable me and I am forced to endure shots and gelding from my vet.

Tale Six: With two fillies, I enjoy life in a pasture paradise. When I play grooming and leading games with Wind, I even let her pick up my precious feet.

Tale Seven: I discover I can safely go into a trailer. One morning, I leap into it to get my breakfast. The humans lock the doors behind me and drive off with me.

Tale One: The Wild Boy

A few seconds after my birth, I felt the hard ground underneath me and my mother’s tongue licking me dry. I blinked at the bright sunlight and cleared my nose with a snort. I reached out and touched my mother’s nose with mine. I drew her scent into my nostrils and it flooded into my body. At that moment, I knew she belonged to me.

I looked at myself and discovered I had four long legs. I tried to get up, but they collapsed underneath me. I battled with them until I managed to stand and snuggle up to my mother. I felt hungry and nosed around her until I found out where to nurse.

My first drink of milk tasted wonderful. I sucked and sucked until my stomach felt like it might burst. Exhausted by my first few minutes of life, I flopped back down to the ground and took a long nap. When I woke up, I felt my mother nuzzling me. I struggled back up on my feet and had another snack.

My mother went off to graze and I wobbled after her. When I peeked around her body, I felt wind ruffling my fur and blowing the long grass against my legs. I saw a herd of grazing horses. Something told me we belonged to that herd.

The wind blew their scents towards me. I flared my nostrils and drew them into my nose. Before I could begin to sort out which scent belonged to which horse, I choked and had to cough to clear my throat.

From the moment of our birth, we horses know that we live in a world full of hungry meat eaters and other dangers. To survive, we have to belong to a herd. When I looked around me, I discovered our herd lived on a sea of grass with light and space all around us. To me, it looked like a paradise for a herd of mustangs.

I wanted to get closer to the other horses because I didn’t feel safe with only my mother to protect me. Several mares and foals came towards us, but my mother laid back her ears and bared her teeth at them. She plunged towards them and drove them away from wobbly me. Her actions said, Stay away from my baby.

She nuzzled me and looked at my long legs. Suddenly, I saw myself galloping beside her. Before we could join our herd, I realized she wanted me to get my legs under control. For a few days, I worked hard at moving with her and around her. Soon I could keep up with her at a walk, trot, canter, and gallop.

I often touched her body with my nose so I could drink in her scent. I belonged to her and felt her love for me. Sometimes she sent me pictures to show me that she had always wanted a marvelous son like me. I believed she would always be there to feed, protect, comfort, and teach me.

I stayed close to her, but spent lots of time watching the other horses and figuring out how to identify each one of them. Our herd had many mares and foals with one stallion to guard and protect us from our enemies. I soon figured out that the scent of male and female horses is never quite the same.

My father impressed me with his light color, muscular build, and protective attitude. Someday I wanted to become a herd stallion just like him. If I did, I hoped to have just as many females in my harem of mares.

Within our herd, I noticed that the mares had their own special friends and so did the foals. Friends stayed together and sometimes groomed each other. Like my mother, the other mares spent most of their time grazing. The foals spent their time nursing, sleeping, and playing with each other. I begged my mother to let me join in their games, but she kept me safe by refusing to let me play with them.

To identify each member of our herd, I had to learn to recognize their scent, size, shape, color, and voice. Most of them had manes and tails whose color contrasted beautifully with their coat colors. Some had two or more colors in their fur coats. Some even had stripes on their legs, down their backs, or over their shoulders.

One day, I turned my head around to examine myself and saw that my coat, mane, and tail were black. My dull color made me feel inferior. I wondered if that was why my mother didn’t want me to associate with the other horses in our herd.

Then, I picked up one of my hind feet and saw that it had a white sock above my hoof. I checked and so did my other hind foot. Maybe those white markings did give me a special look.

My mother finally let some of the other horses come up to me, but she laid back her ears to say, Don’t you dare hurt my baby. After that day, she let me leave her side, but none of the adult horses appreciated marvelous me. They either ignored me or drove me away from them.

One day, as I prowled around our herd, I scented milk and tried to get it from one of the other mares. She