A School Horse Legacy, Volume 1: ...As Tails Go By

By Anne Wade-Hornsby

This is volume one of a series, a collection of the first 17 stories of school horses and the pivotal lessons they taught to Anne Wade-Hornsby as she developed her riding school and became a noted trainer in Riverside, California, from 1971 until the present. It includes an introduction, a personalized glossary, an 18th chapter that extends the activities of the riding school, and finally, emails and reminiscences by former students who rode these particular school horses.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Apr 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781456605766

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FOREWORD

In the course of teaching and training both horses and people, I worked with all kinds of personalities and characters. The experience was usually mutually successful. I learned from my failures, as well. A few of the relationships were as grand as life is likely to allow. I viewed the riding school as a place where I got to interact with people whose love of horses led them to me – a person who could teach them to develop their riding skills to a level that made riding safe, enjoyable and rewarding. The sense of achievement one feels, in any discipline or subject, when an idea becomes understandable, attainable, and can be implemented with positive results, reverberates from the inside out –emotionally, physically, and mentally. When a rider made the head, hands, legs, and seat connection to his or her mount and was able to accomplish, say, an extension or a lead change or could gracefully jump an obstacle, I was the only person happier or more rewarded than the student. Over the years, I have been challenged by riders and horses to be really inventive about my approach, to make them think about what they were doing.

My classes may well remember how stubborn I could be when problems arose. I don’t care if we practice past dark! usually did the trick. The reason you are on a horse is to go forward. Why are you standing there? Walking at a snail’s pace? Going in the wrong direction? Tears are not an aide your horse understands. Crying doesn’t help your horse accomplish anything. But, finally, Wow, that is so much better. How nice was that!

I woke up every morning, knowing I was going to have the privilege of using my hard won knowledge to help make the world more understandable and enjoyable for someone. My public school experiences grounded me in the ways of human interaction, and my horses showed me and related to me the endless wonder of the natural world. To be able to share this has been my greatest pleasure.

INTRODUCTION

The beginning. I still feel mildly guilty about talking my dad into taking me horseback riding instead of my sister, that July, 1953, in Texas. After all, it was her fifth birthday, her day. But she had a bad cold, was in bed, and my dad had made the reservations. Wheedle I did, and somehow, I ended up on the back of a huge, gentle brown horse in a hard Western saddle with stirrups still out of reach for my freaky long, skinny seven-year old legs. I don’t remember the ride at that dusty, cowboy-owned rental stable at the bottom of the hills off-base, near our barracks. I don’t remember if it was hot at Lackland Air Force Base, near San Antonio, that July 5th. I never forgot the feeling of complete love and the rightness I felt, on the back of a horse, the realizing of my passion, fueled by Fury, Champion, Trigger, and Blaze, at that exact, shameless moment. Over 50 years later, I am still fortunate enough to feel that same connection with my friends-my horses-beings that have seen me through dangers, trials, and triumphs with a consistency that I can only appreciate, with wonder, time after time.

With my dad in the Air Force, my family moved a lot – I went to 23 schools between kindergarten and high school graduation. Every base had some access to horses, which I used every chance I got. When I started lessons and rode in Japan, in 1957, my first riding habit and my first pair of boots were handmade. No local tack shops to be found in Tokyo in 1957. My mother, who had ridden English, mainly in New York’s Central Park, had her own idea of a proper riding habit. A bright red and green plaid blazer, and really poufy-hipped jodhpurs were probably a bit much, but I felt so correct when I wore them. My handmade leather boots scented my closet for years when we returned to the States, reminding me of my good fortune to have parents who put up with horse crazy me.

It was in Japan, from 1957 to 1961, that I learned the responsibility associated with horsemanship. Just outside of Yakota Air Force Base, in a wide, grassy, tree-lined break between two rice fields, a man I only remember as Saki-san kept three skinny horses. During the day, they were tied to a tree, for rent by locals and American riding aficionados. I was 11 years old, and had no money, but I had plenty of time. During the summer, and on many week-ends, I groomed and tacked up his horses. I would run, walk, or ride a bicycle beside the horses when they were rented out, as Saki-san did not let people ride out alone. I spoke passable Japanese, and he spoke no English, so I helped him out with the American riders. In return, I got to ride one or the other horse home, bareback, to his yard in the back of a thatched roof farmhouse, quite near our base housing, when the day’s work was done. I was in heaven. His three old horses were always called Ichi, Ni, and San, even when one would be occasionally replaced by another. Saki-san was kind to them, though I don’t think worming was a priority. My rides, bareback, through tree-lined paths between the rice paddies and tea fields (way too small to be called plantations) make up my earliest memories of the golden, sunny, freedom of youth--just me, a horse, the earth, sky, and summer breezes.

That ended about two years later when Daddy was transferred to different base housing in Washington Heights in Tokyo (later the Olympic Village). I transferred my allegiance to the horses at the local Yoyogi Stables, near Meiji Shrine, where very wealthy Japanese owners were happy to have a rider exercise their horses for free. Further, I got to take riding lessons for the remainder of our time in Japan at Camp Drake and Camp Fuchinobe on wonderful campaigners from the Olympics, or mounts kept by officers and civilians with the money to board their horses there. I took the train every week-end from Sangubashi Station to whichever Army base the stable was using that year. I volunteered for every duty I could. Cleaning stalls, mixing feed, drying bedding, cleaning tack, walking horses out--I could have lived in the barn.

Our instructor was a retired ex-cavalry officer from Emperor Hirohito’s army named Numada-san, who had represented Japan in the Olympics. He was and remains a role model for me, as well as my first instructor, all these years later. He respected his school horses and he was an excellent judge of whom to pair up, horse and rider. The horses in those barns were fully the equal of any I have owned or ridden since. Numada-san followed procedures that simply couldn’t fail: discipline came first, obedience to technique was expected, warm-up and practice were explained, and then we were challenged to look perfect at whatever exercise he asked us to perform. When we were successful, our wonderful schoolmaster mounts did as asked, over fences, on the flat, on trail rides. Through Numada-san’s sponsorship, our riding school participated in horse shows at the palace grounds of Emperor Hirohito in Tokyo. One of those shows featured, among other historical aspects of Japan’s cultural heritage, part of its historical future: Prince Akihito and his then fiancé, Michiko, made a tour around the huge show arena in a gorgeous, ornate carriage and four-in-hand. I was on my horse, not five feet away, waiting to enter a smaller show ring, as they toured the stands. We all got a commemorative bronze dish, which my mother had framed, and which is right above my desk as I write this. So many years later, having had hundreds of students myself, I can only send another heartfelt arigato gozaimasu (thank you very much) to Numada-san for giving me so many equestrian experiences, such a solid riding foundation and excellent teaching examples/models upon which to build my school.

The written and oral records are full and glorious with the stories of wonderful horses. Pegasus was my favorite. Can you imagine the wonder of riding that magnificent, shining creature around the world, of having such power to control? I drew Phaeton and the Chariot of the Sun, and told his story to every class I taught during my 38+ years in public education, as a lesson in why a student should follow directions. Bucephalus’ story was always explained whenever I trained some green youngster or retrained a problem horse. On a daily basis, though, I was constantly, and consistently taught by my school horses: to keep sharp, flexible, think quickly, be observant, make intelligent decisions (and appear cool and calm doing it) but, above all, to be patient and kind to those I was working with– be they my regular, public school students or my riding students.

My teaching career in the Riverside Unified School District lasted 38 years. My riding school is still going, though on a smaller scale than during the ‘70s-‘90s. Due to circumstances beyond my control, the formal riding school was retired from its original location on Madison Street in Riverside in 1994. HA! I found that former students and new-found riding friends weren’t about to let me put the abilities given to me by all the horses you are about to read about, out to pasture! Fellow-boarders, former students, and people who simply found out about me, persuaded me to take up riding instruction again, at the fantastic, welcoming stable where I board. Once again, I have access to the best horses and facilities around, and my students are getting the benefit of all the marvelous experiences shared with my past and present equine partners. In fact, my star school horse now is the last son of the first horse I was ever given, by one of my very first students. Patty, wherever you are, the spirit of Rhiannon, the horse you named after the Welsh horse goddess, is alive and well in her son. With every encounter, I appreciate the privilege I am allowed when I share my life and gain wisdom from my equine sojourners. These are all true stories, with their life lessons, as I remember them.

GLOSSARY

These are terms as I use them in the stories. They are arranged by category. All of my students knew these terms pretty quickly after starting lessons. We would discuss, illustrate, and use most of the techniques and ideas you see. They were given text readings and worked on terminology during rainy day classes. Any of my students could discuss any of these with each other.

Breeds and Size

Andalusian –

Horses originally of Spanish and Mexican breeding. The Pura Raza registry makes sure the lineage goes back to Spanish forbears. Mexico has some nice purebreds as well. These are well-built, versatile horses known for long flowing manes and tails. They are comfortable riding horses. Some have also become good jumpers and dressage horses. They are generally intelligent with a desire to please their rider. I am a fan of the breed.

Appaloosa – (see also colors and markings)

A color breed with an American Indian history in the U.S., but the spotted or roan horses are found throughout the world, called by different names.

Azteca –

A one-half registered Lusitano or Andalusian, and the other half, registered Quarter Horse. Amistad, Alae, Centurion, and Sailor were/are Aztecas. I love this breeding. It has produced horses that have won at top levels in eventing, driving, jumping, and endurance for me.

Hand –

Four inches. Horses are measured from the ground to the withers, which is the top point where the neck joins/becomes the body. Horses are measured by hands to determine height and to some extent, size.

Horse –

Equine more than 14.2 hands

Morgan –

A versatile American breed. These have been willing, enjoyable, capable mounts for the riders at my school .

Lusitano –

This Portuguese horse breed split with Andalusians ages ago,and are sometimes called Portuguese Andalusians. These are the types of horses ridden by the Romans in ancient times. Like Andalusians, they range in size from 14.3 hands and up. My Lusitano stallion was a super-comfortable riding horse.

POA –

Pony of the Americas. Appaloosa colored ponies, as opposed to horse size.

Pony –

Equine 14.2 hands or under

Quarter Horse –

A registered American breed known for versatility. I looked for them for students who wanted a solidly built horse with the commonly expected trait of consistent, calm temperament.

Quarter Pony –

A registered breed for small Quarter Horses (under 14.2) as well as Quarter Horse stock raised to be ponies. Great for kids and petite adults.

Thoroughbred –

A breed registered through the Jockey Club noted for speed and sportiness. I looked for these for riders who wanted competition horses and maybe a step up from school horses.

Warmblood –

Mixed breeds of horses from all over the world. Usually some sort of draft breed (cold-blooded) mixed with the Thoroughbred and/or Arab breeds (hot-blooded). There are a lot of these: Dutch, German, Danish, Swedish, many also with regional names of origin, like Holsteiner or Westphalian thrown in. They are basically big horses bred for jumping or dressage. I showed these horses for owners and found them to be over-priced and trendy. They were usually pretty enough, but my personal preferences were the Quarter Horses, Thoroughbreds, Andalusians, Morgans, and crosses – known qualities at a decent price. Today, Quarter Horse people can claim they also raise American Warmbloods and my own Andalusian crosses are also registered Iberian Warmblood,which they can be with only one-quarter Lusitano lineage. That is my take on Warmbloods. I think the registration does give the buyer some clue as to the background of the horse being purchased.

Colors and Markings

Appaloosa –

Coat is usually a basic color (white, black, brown, red) with roaning or spots of white on dark, or dark on white. Pink, mottled skin around the eyes and muzzle is common, as are striped hooves. They can have sparse manes and tails, though I did not find this to be the case with my Appys.

Bay –

Shades of brown from light to nearly black, with black on the legs, black mane and tail.

Black bay –

The darkest of the bay horses.

Blood bay –

Bright, solid reddish coat with black mane,tail, and legs.

Chrome –

White on head, legs. On paints and pintos, can mean lots more white than other colors.

Cremello –

All over off-white to pearl-colored to pale gold. A sort of washed out, not quite Palomino.

Dun, buckskin –

Can range from pale gold or red or light brown with any shade of brown or black points to cocoa brown with darker brown or black points. Often includes stripes on the legs and a dark dorsal stripe down the back, but not necessarily. Yellow duns have a golden base coat, red duns have a reddish base coat. I love this color. For whatever