My Story
I would never have dreamt that I one day would have my hobby as my profession. Nor that I would come to re-evaluate my view on life as well as my opinions and learn something completely new, and all this due to a horse, well, actually, six horses… The BeginningIt all started with me, watching a TV programme featuring a breed of horses quite new to me, the Russian Basjkir horse. At the time, there were about 100 individuals in Sweden, the major part way up in the north, with the Laplanders and some in Haninge, close to Stockholm, the capital of Sweden.
They said on the programme that the Basjkir horse appeared to be "hypo-allergic", that is, a majority of people allergic to horses could ride, groom and be together with these horses without experiencing any allergic reactions. They continued to tell more about the breed, in size as a large pony, 130-150 cm (13-15 hands) at the withers, and strong (reputed to be able to carry up to 1 000 kg!). The Basjkir Horse freely roams the southern part of the Ural Mountains in the Republic of Basjkortostan and has thus kept many of the traits of the wild horse.
A nomadic people, not unlike the Laplanders, Sapmì, of Scandinavia, raise these horses for meat, milk, leathers and means of transportation. The mares are milked and the milk is fermented to produce an alcoholic beverage called kumiss. It is rumoured that you can go on working for three whole days on end on a single glass of kumiss! When the foal is three months' old, it is separated from its mother during the days. In order to toughen the foal, it is left by itself, tied to a pole in the basking sun. A foal that cannot cope with this treatment is not considered to be worth keeping.
Such are the ways in Basjkortostan.
One year before this event, my family (Göran, Antonia, Viveca and Jonatan) purchased the farm that my father- and mother-in-law used to run. We were about to set up some kind of business on the premises, but what? The estate had about 30 ha (approximately 60 acres) arable land and there had been cattle there before. The problem was that I suffered from an occupational injury after my 12 years as a farmers' replacement so milk production was out of the question, but horses…
Horses and riding had been my hobby for more than 30 years, I had owned and cared for a considerable number of horses, and amongst other things, been in charge for a 4H-establishment (with emphasis on horses, of course!) for 18 years. Maybe it could be done!
The Transaction I got the impulse to go in for these horses, but it turned out that it was much more difficult to buy them than I ever would have imagined. In addition to this, the contract of sale was quite tough. I have bought and sold a number of horses during the years. Always doing it "according to the book" with vet examinations, right of re-purchase etc. In this case, it was quite different. I had to sign the contract as early as November 1997 and pay 10 000 SEK in advance for each of the six horses I signed up for. This to secure that I would not be without horses, which I could be anyhow… I got to decide on the gender of the horses, but was advised not to choose geldings as they are gelded just before exportation without any anaesthetic whatsoever. This experience tended to linger in the mind of the geldings, making them difficult to handle. I have, however, always preferred mares, as they often have ideas of their own, a trait I find challenging so I ended up signing up for four mares and two stallions, the stallions to be gelded at their arrival here. Today, I wonder how I ever dared to go through a deal like that! But on the other hand, it felt like The opportunity of my lifetime, something I would regret for the rest of my life if I did not give it a try and went through with it. I was not allowed to choose my horses, they would just be sent to me. They were said to arrive in April, according to the contract, but it would take until the last of June before the first four arrived, and my herd was not complete until October 1998 when the last two mares arrived, almost one year after I signed the contract.
The horses are caught, loaded onto open trucks and transported from Basjkortostan at the south of Ural to Moscow, a trip of over 600 miles. In Moscow, the horses are kept in quarantine in teeny loose boxes for veterinary sampling. During the three months the horses spend in Moscow, they are broken in and taught to lift their hooves on request. This training is performed by Cossacks and it starts with hauling the horse behind a boat. Thus the horse must swim until the end of its strength. Then the horse is released and is mounted. Swim if you want to live! In this manner the training continues. The horse's ear is twitched with the aid of a long stick so that it is possible to get to the horse in the loose box. A club is used to get the horses to lift their hooves, they simply hit the horse on the leg to make it lift the hoof. The horses are ridden on sharp curb bits and get their mouths sore. I find these kinds of methods absolutely awful, so I won't tell you more. They totally break down the horses to make them submissive; this is how they work.
All horses cannot cope with this kind of treatment, so I was told that I only would get four out of my six horses. If this was due to that the horses were unbreakable, or if they simply died out of the harsh treatment, I do not know.
After these three months, the horses were again loaded onto trucks, this time with destination the Russian/Finnish border. Here the horses were to be reloaded onto a Swedish truck that waited for them. So far, so good, but when the transport was to go through Russian customs, the transport was denied passage. A stamp was missing in the passports of the horses. It was Friday evening and the Russian Agricultural Department in Moscow had closed for the weekend. There they were, truck with driver and horses, locked up in Customs the whole weekend without feed or water for the horses. Those driving the transports were not even allowed to cater for the horse's needs. The Swedish driver was deeply impressed with the calmness and contentness the horses expressed, in spite of the horrid conditions. As for the customs officer, he thought it was the transporter's fault that the horses got to suffer, and not his…
Here, at Last! But…After five days and nights cooped up in a truck, four ragged bags o'bones arrived at Gideå in the middle of the night the 30th June 1998, the venture and adventure of my life! Imagine how I felt when the doors were opened and I laid my eyes on my Basjkir horses for the first time? I can assure you; it was quite a shock.
I had never ever seen such bony horses, they looked like skeletons alive. The stallion was severely dehydrated, which resulted in swollen withers and as he was emaciated, he looked more like a dromedary than a horse.
At this moment I really worried about what I had bought. In fact, I felt totally, utterly fooled. My Basjkirs looked like a bunch of horses due for slaughter, not really the stuff you were willing to pay 43,000 SEK (about 2,800 £ or 5,400 $) for. I got some advice from the driver as not to take off the stallion's lead rope, because then I would not be able to catch him again.
I left it like that.
The next few days I had my hands full feeding these poor skinny creatures whom seemed to be able to eat constantly. They were extremely shy, especially watchful about their heads, and appeared to be more likely to attack and sink their teeth in than anything else. The stallion was so broken down that he kicked fiercely with his front legs anytime anyone came close. I realised that conventional methods would not do to gain these horse's trust. However, I figured that I should have a pretty good chance as I at least gave them unlimited food and after four days of constant eating of last year's hay, they actually started to make contact with me.
We began walking them in the paddock just to see how they behaved, and their behaviour was excellent, so, we continued by bringing them to the pasture where they encountered… a fence! Quite a new experience to them, wild horses as they were. We solved this little problem by turning the horses out, one by one on a pasture fenced by a wooden fence combined with an electric fence. We kept the lead rope attached to the halter that we could catch them, just in case. This due to that they were so watchful about their heads that you could not just walk up to them and take hold of the halter. Little by little, we could turn out more horses together and (ah, bliss!!!) take away the lead ropes. Finally, all four of them were out in the green pasture, imagine how good it felt!
Turning Out the StallionTurning out the stallion to the mares was undoubtedly the most exciting part. He was five years old at the time and had a really ugly marking on his left thigh. M3 93 it said, and looked like it had been carved in with a blunt knife. On his shoulder he had another marking, 306 and these markings indicated that he was individual 306, born in 1993. He had no name, number 306, but we named him Djingis Khan (Ghengis Khan) after the (in)famous Mongolian leader. It is rumoured that Ghengis Khan himself preferred the Basjkir horses over any other breed, and I fully understand him. They are renowned for their calmness, if frightened they "freeze", that is, stand absolutely still and check the apparent danger out to see if it is dangerous enough to waste a gallop on. This could be interpreted as they are lazy or unwilling to work, but this is definitively not the case. Their calmness is a quality highly appreciated, at least by me who have handled spooky warmbloods that goes nuts for nothing, seeing ghosts and goblins everywhere. Another special trait among the Basjkir horses is that they have collected heat periods. The mares are in season one month, each year, which makes the rest of the year comparably calm.
Hmmm… back to my horses, perhaps, and the occasion when I was to turn out Djingis to the mares. When I turned him out, I guess he must have thought he had come to heaven, and so did I as the ladies were in season. But how he (and I) was deceived! It turned out that his behaviour was far from correct. I think he imagined that it was just to "hop on", but the ladies wanted to be courted. My guess is that he had only been with other stallions of his own age before and had (obviously) no idea about how to behave properly. So, Djingis Khan was defeated for the first time. He got a thorough beating by the mares who literally chased him around that small field, kicking and biting him whenever they got the chance. This procedure was repeated many times a day for a fortnight. It all ended when one of the ladies kicked him so bad that he became lame. He badly needed some rest, so I stabled him up for two days and in this short time, he healed nicely, all by himself.
When I once again turned him out, he was very meek and reserved towards the ladies, and this proved to be the right behaviour, all three mares lined up with lifted tails. I cannot say which one of us that was most surprised, the stallion or me! But, as soon as he got the hang of the situation, he mounted Kalinka. After that, he was quite exhausted which in turn caused the other two mares to get a bit disgruntled.
Eventually, he managed to take on the other two as well, as I got two beautiful fillies in June the following year. Unfortunately one mare aborted her foal on May 1ST , a result of some pranking youngsters that threw crackers into the field where the horses were kept. The mare herself had a close brush with death as she contracted an infection due to the premature foaling, but luckily, she got through and gave birth to a healthy filly the year after.
How to Handle a Wild Horse?There are not much written about wild horses and their unadulterated behaviour, so I have watched and re-learned. I devoured books on Natural Horsemanship (that is, how to communicate with the horse through body language) and that was my salvation as to gain knowledge how to handle these horses. They are very intelligent, as only the smart survives, so gaining their trust is no easy feat. But, once you have gained their trust, it is forever, according to the literature available. They are very co-operative and eager to do what you ask of them. I have been with these horses in the most impossible situations, and not once have they let me down. I have encountered ski-doos, timber trucks and what-nots that a horse definitively might perceive as dangerous and not even once has these horses refused to do what they were asked to do, or even shown the slightest sign of fear. I find this truly amazing, especially considering these horses background. The ladies that arrived in October
Actually, I have only praise for those horses. It took considerable time and effort to get them into the shape they are today, but it was worth it, all the way. On October the 23RD 1998 my last two horses arrived, both mares, as the nomads had carried out their autumn-slaughter, no stallions were available. So, I just had to start all over again with two shy beings. As a matter of fact, in retrospect, I am glad that not all horses arrived at the same time. If they had, I fear the task had been way too much for me. The major problem this time was the snow. As all of you who keep animals outdoors in the wintertime during frozen and snowy periods know, the earthing (grounding) of an electric fence during these conditions is not the best. In addition to that, these two newcomers had quite a winter coat. The kind of stuff you need to grow to protect yourself when the temperature creeps below -50 °C (-58 °F). Finally, we got them to touch the fence with their muzzles and then they understood. Though, I must admit that the first period when the horses only were fenced in with an electric fence was a bit trying for me. Imagine six wild horses loose all over Gideå? I would rather not… and I admit that I still wonder whether I would have been able to catch them if they got loose.
One of the mares that arrived in October was really good (read: sought to establish contact with me), but the other one (later named Galina) was so shy and frightened that it was virtually impossible to get close to her. For a week, I let her move herself between the different boxes in the stable so that I could muck out for her. I pondered over this problem night and day.
How could I solve this difficulty?
How could I get her to seek out my companionship?
Eventually, I concluded that the situation was intolerable, I had to do something, but what?
I had earlier read in Klaus Ferdinand Hempfling's book "Dansa med hästar" (Tanzen mit Pferde, Dancing With Horses) how he worked with wild horses in an enclosed area. I realised that the stable was not the ideal place to go about this, but necessity knows no law, something had to be done. I decided to give it a go, it was neck or nothing. The box became my picadero, my roundpen and I "divided" it (in my mind) into two halves, one half for me and one for Galina. As soon as she stepped over the line to attack me, I drove her back to her half with my body language, where she was left alone. In the intervals between her attack, I took no notice of her, but as soon as she turned on me, I drove her back to her half. (NB! This does not work on horses that has been domesticated for a long time as we humans de-sensitise them by saying one thing with our bodies and meaning something completely different. This results in the horse not listening to our body language after a while.) How my heart raced during this! She might as well have kicked me senseless.
It took about half an hour to convince her that I was the leader and then she turned her head towards me and allowed me to touch her all over her body. What a feeling! Even though my knees trembled, I felt ten miles high. At that moment, I was ready to go out and tell the whole wide world about how to handle horses. After this episode, I have completely left the conventional way of handling horses and re-learned, from the beginning. As for Galina, she has after this experience been just like the others; calm, secure and trusting. It is amazing how easy it was, and so totally non-violent.
More "Problems" With Galina Unfortunately, the problems were not over yet for Galina. When I got the horses in such shape that a veterinary examination was possible (February 1ST 1999), it turned out that she was in foal, and quite close to foaling, at that. I had just started her on my riding lessons, but considering her condition, I had to give her maternity leave. This all happened during an extremely cold period, the temperature went below -35 °C (-31 °F). Fortunately, Galina postponed her foaling until noon March 22 ND . It was as if she wanted to draw attention to the moment. First of all, she foaled in broad daylight and secondly, she choose the corner closest to our house, maybe so that I really should see her. I saw the whole herd standing in a semi-circle, their attention on something on the ground, which made me suspect that the foaling was in progress. I went down to the field and when the foal was out, the stallion became very curious. I kept him at a distance with a number of snowballs. Galina did not lick her foal when it was born, something I found a bit odd, but it seems to be a behaviour common to the Basjkir horses. I am not sure why they do not do this, perhaps it is due to keep the foal's coat as fat and warmth-retaining as possible. I stabled the mare and the foal. As the mare in the wild leaves the heard when she feels her time has come to give birth in order to give the foal some time to get imprinted on the mare. I let Galina and the foal be together in a field of their own for about a week until Galina started to "shout" for her friends. I then decided to turn them out together with the others again. Merrily we walked down to the field to show the newcomer to the herd. When we arrived at the gate we were greeted by friendly nickering and I let mother and daughter into the field. The others came running at a flat gallop to greet the pair. Galina got very busy to protect her totally unaware offspring against the curiosity of the others. The filly was very poorly perceptive towards her mother and her signals, a trait that seems to be common to this breed as well. All the foals are very independent, from the foaling and onwards. Everyone in the herd participates in the rearing of the young and a foal can even nurse on other mares than its mother.
After a while, when mother and daughter had become separated, Djingis attacks! He launches himself at the little foal, beating with his front hooves across the back of the filly, who, in turn, sinks down in a deep snowdrift. No rational thoughts in my mind, I raced to counter-attack the stallion (NB! only with body language) and managed to drive him away. In fact, he was so perplexed that he immediately took off, taking the rest of the herd with him, leaving us alone.
I hurried to dig out what I thought to be, a dead, foal, but thank goodness, found an alive one instead! Here, speed was of outmost importance! I hurried mare and foal out of the field and brought them back to the stable. The foal looked all right, no harm done there, but I was very upset and unnerved by the stallion's behaviour.
I called those who had imported the horses to find out whether this was a normal behaviour or if something had snapped for my Djingis. The explanation they gave me was that Galina was in foal already when she came to Djingis herd, that is, the foal was by another stallion. As Galina came to Djingis herd, something must have happened to the other stallion, thus he must have been a no-good stallion and thus his offspring is not good either. That sounded likely, at least I bought the explanation.
I got the advice to keep mare and foal separated from the rest of the herd for a couple of weeks so the little filly would have some time to grow a bit and to become more alert on her mother's signals. After that, it would probably all right to turn them out together with the rest of the herd again. A Basjkir foal grows at a rate of about two kg per day (you can almost see it growing day by day) during it's first summer, only to stop growing in the autumn/winter. In the autumn, it begins to accumulate fat, to store an energy-reserve for the wintertime.
When I again tried to turn out Galina and her filly Tatjaana together with the others, I began by keeping them in a small field with a wooden fence and letting the other mares in, one by one so that they could get aquatinted. Finally, I let the stallion in. That was most exciting. But, the leading mare, Tuscha had to my surprise taken Tatjaana under her wing and Djingis did not get anywhere close to the little one. It was not until then I dared to leave the herd, safe in knowing that Tuscha protected the foal.
HarmonyEvery day, I learn something new from these wonderful horses. I have by now been arranging treks, riding lessons and riding holidays for more than two years. Each time I go down to the field, I expect the horses to ignore me as well as the work that lies ahead. Still, they come, every time, as faithfully as ever, line up inside the barn and kind of asks "What's up for today?!?" It does not get any better than this! I understand if you envy me having such great friends, but they are here for you too! Just be willing to let go of the conventional ways and start co-operating with the horse instead of trying to dominate it. I promise, you will be a much, much, much happier person! /Carina Hedman
