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Snyder


Tinker

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Snyder

He coaxes from the rankest of beasts a trust in his hand. Old Dolly was going to be challenge however.

Dolly should never have been used as a trail horse at the Boy Scout camp. It was only a matter of time until she rubbed one of them off. At 15 hands it was a hard fall for an unsuspecting young scout and a small arm had been broken. She had never really been trained, just green broke and had gotten by without too much trial because of her circumstance. Her riders were inexperienced kids and she would plod the trail, following the leader. What her life was before she had been donated to the camp is unknown. She was probably abused given her disposition.

But now she had been removed from the herd, handled by an experienced rider and given commands. Her disposition was one that did not acquiese easily. Instead she revolted. She bit, she spit, she spun and bucked. When she couldn’t rub her rider off on the fence, she laid down and tried to roll causing her rider to jump free before breaking a leg.

That is how she came to Snyder. He rarely rode a horse, he just trained them. Usually he worked with young animals, not having been broken yet. Then every once in a while an old cranky horse like Dolly would be brought to him. At first he would just talk to them in his low Tennessee drawl. Then he would approach as if no man had before handled them, all the while slapping the coiled rope on his side.

Patience is the game and over and over he worked her until she accepted his hand and didn’t shy. His methods, firm and confident eventually drew out Dolly’s trust. From there she went through step by step, repetitive training as if she was a 2 year old. She was not returned to the camp but given to a young girl who loved her and learned to ride on her. Snyder was our local version of a “horse whisperer”.

~~Tinker

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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goldenlangur

Hello Tink,

 

This is a wonderful account! I like where the prompt took you and how you've brought to your readers a vivid account of a "horse whisperer". I particularly love your details of Dolly's "disposition". Her feisty, "cranky" character comes to life. For someone like myself who knows little about horses, your use of some descriptions are fascinating:

 

"She had never really been trained, just green broke and had gotten by without too much trial because of her circumstance..."

 

Also:

 

"....he would approach as if no man had before handled them, all the while slapping the coiled rope on his side."

 

The reader gets quite involved in the account and rejoices in your happy ending for Dolly. Snyder is certainly an extraordinary person!

 

Thank you for this great narrative.

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Thank you gl, Snyder is dead now. He trained me to ride and he trained all of my horses. And the rider Dolly tried to roll on was my husband. The Boy Scout camp had asked us to take her because they knew we were experience riders and had the space for her until a permanent home could be found for her. They had to get rid of her after she hurt the scout. Bob and I have ridden in endurance trials and I have even gone into the show ring with my mare, but we aren't horse trainers, so we took her to Snyder. Once Dolly was trained and treated better, her disposition changed and we found a home for her with some friends who had an 11 year old daughter. Dolly finally was loved.

 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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Aleksandra

What an picturesque story Tinker. I like it a lot.

From there she went through step by step, repetitive training as if she was a 2 year old. She was not returned to the camp but given to a young girl who loved her and learned to ride on her. Snyder was our local version of a “horse whisperer”.

 

So nice that on the end, Dolly finally was loved. it is nice and happy end - with love.

 

very good write Tink.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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