Pepper

At age two she already knew plenty about how to get along in this world. She knew she was from an ancient breed of Arabian horses born coal black. She didn't know her genetics ordered her to gradually grow white hair to mix with the black. Finally she would be almost pure white in her older years. She sensed she was special and the world owed her a living. Pepper felt that due to her fine breeding she need not learn to work or take orders from anybody. She considered it proper and good that she should kick or bite anybody who dared to disturb her. She wasn't full grown, but she felt she was old enough to be treated with respect. She was amazed when her owner gave her away to Freddy Craft.

Freddy was a high-school distance runner who had admired the black filly having seen her as he practiced running in the country. He lived a mile out of Vista city limits close to me and asked if I would keep Pepper for him in my yard. At age forty, I decided to help Freddy break and train his half grown pet.

We found out right away that we could not out-pull the horse trying to lead her. Even with both of us pulling, she leaned back so hard that when we let loose, she stumbled backwards and fell on her rump. I studied magazines and books about how to work with horses. The reading was easy but learning was slow. I didn't know horse language. The books assumed I already knew stuff like the difference between a right lead, a left lead, and a left crossed lead. I will tell you something. The average person who owns or rides a horse doesn't know either. Anyway, to teach Pepper to lead, I tied a long rope in a slip knot around her chest and threaded the rope through the chin strap of her halter. The plan was to jerk the rope causing it to squeeze her chest and frighten her into moving forward. When I yanked on the rope, it startled her, and she jumped on top of me. Her eight hundred pounds got my attention and I became more alert after that.

Next we tried looping the rope behind her rump under the tail, then running the line over her back and through the halter. This time I wisely pulled more gently while Freddy chased her with a stick. I learned that if I faced Pepper she stopped. She followed better when I looked where I was going. This was not a perfect way because she often stepped on my heels or nipped at my back. It was a test of nerves to lead her. We decided to teach her to longe (pronounced lunge). In horseman talk, longing means to make the animal run around you in a circle while you hold a long lead rope tied to her halter.

We bought a lion tamer whip and learned to make it snap and crack like the sound of a pistol shot. Freddy held her still as I walked out to the side about fifteen feet from her head holding the rope and whip. Freddy went behind her, I snapped the whip toward her butt, and all she did was turn to face me. I kept trying over and over, and Freddy tried chasing her from behind but she wouldn't learn. Pretty soon I could tell she was getting mad at me, so we let her loose.

To ease our tension, we decided to have a race to Dr. King's Lake a quarter mile run down our property, up over a hill to the little pond. Half way there, Freddy tripped and fell. I thought I would win as I ran past him lying on the ground. But he jumped up and passed me before we reached the pond.

The next day we kept working to teach Pepper to run in circles while one of us held the long lead rope, but she still wouldn't learn, and she really started getting irritated at me. As I tried to drive her in a circle around me, she started lashing out at me with her hooves. I read a magazine article called Burrs Under The Saddle by Mary Twelve-ponies. It taught us how to get respect from a horse.

It said horses are shy like rabbits, and they rely on flight rather than fighting. It said if a person really wanted to get a horse's respect, he could master the horse by taking away it's ability to escape. This could be done by throwing the horse down and sitting on it's head just long enough to show the animal who's boss. This, the author explained, would humiliate a horse and make it afraid to fight you from then on. It would make the horse give up and be nice to you. We decided to try sitting on Pepper's head.

We found some soft dirt where Pepper had already rolled herself. That's how she took a bath without water. After getting dusty she shook off the extra dirt. Then she felt clean. The soft dirt was way out back of the house where the only person who could see us was the lady next door. She and her middle aged husband rode their horses in parades. They dressed as rich Spaniards, and she had to be boosted to get on her sidesaddle. They had many trophies, and I think she was the boss. They were members of three horse clubs.

Anyway, we had a tough time getting Pepper to lay down. Finally, using soft ropes we tripped and pushed her over, and I sat on her head to start getting some respect. The lady next door was spying on us from her back porch, and she started screaming that she would call the cops, the dog catcher, and the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. She was very convincing and we let Pepper up. I took the magazine over and tried to show it to her, but she was too mad to look. She stayed angry with us for a month and goodness knows how many people she told about us.

Sitting on Pepper's head did not teach Pepper to respect us. She eventually let us ride her, and Freddy enjoyed owning her before he went off to war.

When a young lady bought the mare from me and later let her mother ride the horse, Pepper laid down on the ground and scared the poor woman off her back. I gave Pepper a couple of lessons and apparently cured her of lying down on the trail. In her old age Pepper turned dappled white, and she quit biting, kicking or doing anything interesting, except, she did win ribbons and trophies at horse shows.