Settling In

Celis settled in for the night very peacefully, eating her hay. Both John and I wondered about her past, whether she had a difficult life, what dangers she had to avoid, or how much trouble she had finding food or water. Despite the hardships she had to endure, I felt a pallor hang over my heart for this dear little white mare. Just six weeks prior she had been wandering free on the range and now she was locked up with humans determining her daily life. At least we could provide a consistent hay supply, so perhaps her life would be like a prison with a gourmet chef.

Looking at Celis's papers, we found out she had been captured August 3, 1995 in Nevada. She had been vaccinated and wormed and would be due for boosters at the end of the month. I hoped that she would be gentled enough by then for the required examination, but I really didn't think so.

The next morning John and I decided to read the newspaper right outside her corral. We studied her small white form: She has a large head in comparison to her body. Her gnarled mane has twisted locks of dark strands mixed in with the white. Her face gently arches into a slight Roman nose and her ears prick so they almost touch each other.

What struck both John and I is the roundness of her belly. Could it be due to worms? Certainly it couldn't be due to a hay belly since she was with a herd of other horses and had been in captivity for just over a month. Perhaps she is pregnant, John postulated. We really wouldn't know till we had the vet out to examine her.

We continued to feed Celis snacks by hand while squatting on the ground. Celis still did not like it when we would approach her corral. She seemed to be getting used to the rope dragging on the ground though. My heart wrenched into a ball every time she would step on it.

Celis would stand on the rope and try to twist her head free. Sometimes she would step on it right next to the halter. At first she would panic and back up, but then she learned to stand quietly and pull till she picked up the foot that had caught it. Celis seemed very annoyed at her halter as well. She tried to take it off by scratching behind her ear with a hind leg. I desperately hoped she would not become entangled in all her garb.

The second evening after we brought Celis home, I went to ride Cameron and Chico, Celis's two corral mates. When I got on Cameron, Celis became very panicked. I avoided her corral, but she still ran to the other end and crashed into the fence. I got back off to make sure she was ok. She was not limping, nor were there any cuts. John and I figured that she was reacting to being captured or she had become afraid of the horse and rider which were used to cut the horses from the herd at the adoption.

As I rode the other horses, I thought about Celis's panic episode. I could see how horses' instincts work. Celis is showing me normal horse reaction and experience learned on the range. When I ride the other two, I can now see how shying at something in the bushes is just a part of their instincts. Perhaps this will help me deal with horses on their level--not mine.

Celis started to eat out of her feeder with John or I standing right out side the fence. The clasp on the lead rope banged against the metal manger. Both of us ache to pet her, but she shys away from any human hand.

While John was doing the morning feedings, he began attempting to touch Celis lightly on the nose while offering her some hay in the feeder. At first she would reach tentatively toward her hay while his arm hung loosely in the corral. As she tried to take a bite of hay, John would have his hand in the way so she had to bump it. At first she jerked back. But her hunger was too great, so she approached again, allowing John to briefly touch her nose before she would withdraw. He would then let her alone to finish her food. Day by day, she gradually became used to his touch on her nose while she was eating.

One day, while working in the yard, John heard some banging coming from the corrals. He ran down there to see what was happening. He arrived just in time to see Celis bucking in her corral. She had removed her halter. John checked to make sure she was okay. Fortunately she hadn't injured herself. The halter lay in the isle of the corrals. Both of us felt better with the halter off, but we weren't sure what we were going to do if she escaped or needed medical attention. We would have to tackle that problem at the time of the incident.

Finally, I decided to start cleaning her corral. I felt two weeks was enough time for her to settle in and the manure was beginning to pile up. I entered her corral during her breakfast. I worked at the opposite end so as not to disturb her too much. She turned so she could eat and watch me at the same time. I did not try to clean the area where she was standing. She didn't move a step, but kept a constant eye fixed on me the whole time I was in her corral.

John and I often wonder how long it will take to gentle Celis White. We both decided it would be best to take things nice and slowly. I would research several different training techniques and try to incorporate them into our gentling practice.

Celis White dragging her rope

Celis White without her halter