MARK RASHID Clinic - Chapel Hill, North Carolina

By Sylvana Smith

"Show him who's boss." "You've gotta be Alpha horse in his eyes.""He has to respect you, no matter what." "Get after him, make him do it."

You'll hear those words a lot around the horse world, but you sure won't hear them from Mark Rashid. The soft-spoken Colorado horseman spreads a philosophy that favors partnership instead of dominance, guidance instead of restraint, support and help instead of correction, faith instead of fear.

I was privileged to have an opportunity to ride in a private clinic with Mark Rashid yesterday, held at Virginia Godfrey's gorgeous Rivendell Farm near Chapel Hill, North Carolina. The clinic included seven one-hour private sessions in the round pen and a large dressage arena overlooking a lake and rolling pastures. The setting alone would have been worth the trip!

The mounts were varied, as were the issues to be addressed. A 2-year-old Oldenburg stallion who had only been backed once before, needing some good early mileage. Some veteran show-hunters that the owner wanted to get softer to the aids. A glorious dressage horse and a carefully raised Warmblood who tended to be spooky. An event horse a little dull to the leg. A former breeding stallion being rehabilitated from a history of abuse. The mounts and questions offered a good sampling of the Rashid philosophy applied to various kinds of issues.

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"We're having a private clinic with Mark Rashid in October, just by invitation only," Elise Cash had told me at the Hunt Horse Complex in September. "We have limited viewing room for auditors, and only a few slots open for riders, but you're welcome to come."

That day, Elise was showing a two-year-old stallion in hand at the NCDCTA Sporthorse Breeding show; I was scribing for judge Janet Brown. She caught me with the invitation en route to the cafeteria when my mind was everywhere else, and my body and writing hand were expected back on duty in 15 minutes.

"Thanks, neat," I said, with no real intention of following up, because I knew the clinician by name only, and I had already overextended my bosses' patience by scheduling time off for three Buck Brannaman clinics and one four-day Ray Hunt clinic in six weeks.

But when Jackie sent me her account of Mark Rashid's clinic in England, in which she rode her sensitive, Welton-bred Meena, I was touched. In two years of email correspondence, I've considered Jackie to be a kindred spirit who shares my values in horsemanship and articulates them better than I ever could. If she found value in this Mark Rashid guy, I had to check it out.

That's how it came to be that a friend on another continent, whom I've never met, opened my eyes to an opportunity right in my own backyard, when my own intuition and understanding failed me. Here's my account, from a first-timer's perspective, of a day with Mark Rashid.

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As I was driving home with Chance at the end of the day--alone with my shallow thoughts since I have no radio in my 27-year-old truck--I tried to organize my thoughts and impressions from the day, to figure out how I would catalog it all in my memory.

I have pages and pages of scrawled notes from the day: impressions, sound bites, actions, little revelations, nuances that revealed bigger things. My notes are organized chronologically, of course, because I wrote from 9:00 am to 5:00pm, page one to whatverÖ but since common themes ran through all the sessions, I mentally catalogued the day by themes, rather than horse by horse. So that's how I'll share those impressions with you.

THEME #1: If you're going to err, err on the side of helping the horse.

This theme recurred in a dozen ways throughout the day, but was most clearly illustrated in one example: how to deal with a spooky horse. The conventional "wisdom," probably the dictum most of us were raised on, was the need to make a horse face up to a shy, to march right up to the object of his fear and make him stare it down, show him it's innocent and show him that, well, you can make him. Mark has quite a different take on it.

"Ten years ago, I'd ride through it," Mark said, referring to trouble spots when a horse balks at some fearful object or circumstance. "Now I'd more likely get off and walk her through it. Think about it: She's acting spooky at something, she's screaming at you, ëI'm really troubled,' and then do you want to drop her off the deep end anyway?"

Sometimes the best thing is to let it go. If you don't make a big deal out of it, the horse is likely to figure it is no big deal. Granted, it's not always necessary to dismount and lead the horse through the demons, but as Mark put it, "if you're going to err, err on the side of helping him out."

THEME #2: Horses don't disobey; they obey what we've unknowingly taught them.

Working on the ground with an Appaloosa gelding that has been pushy with his owner, Mark pointed out the subtle ways the horse pressured that personal space between horse and human, and why the "disobedience" wasn't really what it seemed.

"I don't believe that horses don't respect us," Mark said. "It's not disrespect, it's just the way he's been taught. He's been told that it's always been okay to do that, so it's not a matter of loss of respect."

"You're looking for him to stop when you stop, and to keep the distance between the two of you consistent, whatever you want that distance to be," Mark said, inviting the owner to define where she wanted her horse to be, a matter of personal choice.

When she demonstrated the walk and halt on the lead line, Mark asked us to watch what the horse did after he committed to the stop with one foreleg. Did the second foreleg stop behind the first foreleg? Square up with the first foreleg? An inch ahead? Three inches ahead? That subtle are the first indications of pushiness, lack of connection, Mark noted. Sure enough, as the exercise progressed and the handler gently replaced the horse back a step if he crept up, he was stopping the second foreleg squared up with the first, or slightly behind. If the handler got careless even one time, the gelding immediately went back to three inches of creep instead of squaring up.

In ways as small as this, the horse asks us, "Is it okay if I creep up on you?" If we're busy thinking of bigger actions, chatting with friends, or admiring the scenery, we might be saying to the horse, "Sure, that's okay. I don't mind if you creep up three inches." The next time, he creeps up three inches twice. Then three inches thrice.

"Pretty soon, you have the horse doing things you don't want him to do, running into your elbow or passing you by, only it's because you've allowed him to," Mark said. It appears the horse is being disobedient, but in fact he is only obeying what we accidentally taught him.

Now, this isn't news to anyone, is it? We all know the aphorism: "Every time you're with you're horse, you're training him, for better or for worse." But it can be enlightening to really, truly watch closely and see how small and subtle are the early indications are that accidental training is taking place!

What is it when the horse "crowds you?" Most folks think it's when the horse passes you by or runs you over, Mark said. If you wait until the behavior is that big, you have to make yourself pretty big to fix it. Crowding begins with that creepy inch or two forward, and correcting it at that point is just a matter of reaching gently to the underside of the horse's halter and stepping him backward a step.

THEME #3: It's more about awareness than about action.

Theme #3 is a natural corollary to the previous theme. If you have greater awareness of the beginnings of behavior, you don't have to engage in such big actions to direct the behavior where you want it. Therefore, Mark was constantly expecting the riders to tune in closely to nuances that perhaps we'd overlooked before: feeling for that moment when the horse is setting himself up for a response, rather than the moment it takes place, or the moment after. You're looking to release at the first indication of compliance, rather than wait until the request is fully obliged.

This principle is where I had gone awry with my good-hearted homebred, I found. Even though Chance is relaxed, comfortable, gentle, I knew he could be more light off my leg. I brought him to the clinic seeking to build in some cruise control. I didn't want to feel that when I took my foot off the gas, the motor would stall. I told Mark that the horse has been getting great dressage scores (he has), but sometimes it has felt like pushing a wheelbarrow through mud. Obviously, this syndrome was invisible to the eye (at least on our good horse trial days!), but I felt it and so did Chance.

Intuitively, I knew that I should ask with the lightest possible aid, and release the aid when I got the response, when the life came up. Intellectually, I'd have told you that was exactly what I was doing all along. But when challenged to really, really, really put awareness to the task, I agreed I was releasing the leg a second or two too late, and sometimes applying the leg out of sync with what I was getting from my horse.

That meant that when I applied the leg, after he became livelier, what he heard from me was: "No, increased energy is NOT what I wantÖ oh yea, maybe it is." Similarly, by habit I often failed to give him the benefit of the doubt, and assumed he would slow down if I wasn't vigilant. When you've ridden the horse for years, and perceive him as needing a lot of leg, it's darned hard to drop that habit and give him the benefit of the doubt!

We're not talking about a major disconnect--it's still something dressage judges didn't notice--but when you consider several hundred opportunities to "converse" with your horse through your legs and seat, misfiring even half of those times can become a big disconnect to a sensitive, aware animal.

So, did you get anywhere with it, you ask? Yes! The "less is more" philosophy--and microscopic attention to timing-- worked like a charm. Within 20 minutes, Chance was coasting around the arena in a fluid, ground-covering free walk, no urging or nagging necessary. Between Step One and Step 10 though, were intermediate achievements. We didn't expect him to carry an "8" free walk on his own for an entire lap of the arena right off. At first, I was happy to get three steps before the energy started to subside. Then grateful for 10 steps. Then amazed at how he coasted the entire long side of the arena in a better walk than I had expected, even though I was inviting him to slow to a halt. What a change, resulting from doing so little. Such a tiny change in HOW I rode him, producing such a big change in how he rode.

I know what I'd be thinking if, two days ago, someone related this exact same experience to me. "Big deal," I'd have thought. "Common sense. It's just good timing and proper use of the aids." That's exactly what I would have said. Yesterday afternoon, I received a different picture of what "good timing" and "proper use" really mean. It's a very subtle distinction that is profoundly received by the horse.

THEME #4: Do less to get more.

"I don't use a lotta tools," Mark noted. "I want the horse to pay attention to me, not to my tools. That's why all the tools you'll see me use to train a horse are right there in that bag," he said, pointing to a duffel bag barely big enough for a trip to the gym.

All we ever saw emerge from the bag was a plain web halter, a web halter with magnets in the crown, and a rope longe line with a simple brass snap. Gimmick salesmen would go hungry ëround here.

How do we get results without tools to make ourselves bigger, extend our reach, overcome our human frailties? By being aware of behaviors when they are very, very small, offering guidance and support to the horse at that stage, and not allowing the behaviors to escalate to the point where tools and gimmicks would seem to be the only way out.

How do we get away with doing less? By releasing more, and releasing with better timing. For instance, Mark pointed out that one rider, when using a soft leading rein to reverse direction, kept contact on the rein even as the horse was turning. "If you keep pulling the rein when he's starting to turn, he'll start to brace." Release when you get the response, or else you are breaking the trust.

He asked another rider how many times she tapped her horse to get him moving past the gate. "Three times," she said. "SEVEN times," Mark responded. "He was telling you way back there that he understood you and he started going faster, but you couldn't feel it because your legs were too busy." Breaking the trust.

Mark's suggestion to squeeze, hold the squeeze until the horse brought up the energy, then release immediately, was a bit of a change to me. I'd been taught that a squeeze makes a horse dull to leg, and a lively leg, a tap rather than a squeeze, was more effective. Not so, according to Mark. "With a tap, tap, tap, you're rewarding him every time you take your leg off, which is rewarding him for doing the wrong thing. He learns from the release."

"Do what it takes, but don't start there," Mark told the group. "I want to be able to direct the horse with the smallest possible aida 1 on a scale of one to 10. Usually the horse will tell me that's all he needs. If he needs more, fine, I'll do what it takes, but next time, I'll start back with the 1."

"You want to be so that it's a little bit from you and you get a lot from him, that's what we're shooting for."

THEME #5: Look at the whole horse.

With each horse brought before him, Mark looked beyond the obvious and the explicit behavior, asking questions that put the horse's behavior into perspective in a holistic context. "What do you feed him?" "Is he in a pasture with other horses?" "What does he do when you ride him out of the arena?" "What does he do right before he does that?" "What are you doing for this horse's hocks?" "We'll watch this scar tissue on his knee and see if that's bothering him." "How long have you had him?" "What has been done with him."

The questions were all part of troubleshooting, often yielding clues to behavioral problems. Of course, if we look at the big picture, there's always the fear of getting the answers we don't want, like "You're to blame for this issue," or "Find another job for which this horse is more physically suited."

"Don't look for the solution, look for the cause," Mark said. "When you find the cause, you'll have your solution."

THEME #6: Don't think, "Do this, horse" think, "Go with me."

Forwarding a charitable view of the horse as willing partner, Mark emphasized partnership rather than dominance. When longeing the two-year-old Oldenburg stallion, for instance, he demonstrated the subtle but effective difference between driving the horse away from you versus asking him to connect, mentally, and go with you.

No more scaring the horse around a circle, threatening him with shakes of the rope or whisks of a whip. Instead, Mark cues the horse by bringing up the life in his own body, describing a track inside the horse's track, and communicating a "go with me" message rather than a "run away from me" message. The stallion responded by moving out with fluidity, loosening up his tense back, showing a marked increase in animation in his step and roundness in his topline.

THEME #7: There's a difference between riding ON the horse and riding WITH the horse.

We've talked about timing, release, awareness, attitude, mutual respect, helping the horse. Put all this together and you're starting to ride with the horse rather than on him, by Mark's definition.

It's an intangible concept, but it has a lot of visible manifestations that should start to give the idea. For instance, it's anticipating the downward transition and riding the first step of the new gait as it is developing, rather than getting the downward transition and then adopting the body posture/rhythm of the new gait.

It's having a clear vision of the response you're seeking, and being absolutely consistent in guiding the horse to that vision and appreciating him for reaching it. It's seeking maximum softness in every interaction with the horse, on and off his back. It's identifying the most subtle messaging between horse and human, and responding at a point when you can be very quiet, not waiting until the little messages become arguments. It's communicating with seat, wherever and whenever possible, following up with the hands only when necessary.

It's looking for a mental connection with the horse, seeing where his mind is and responding to that rather than fixating on the physical. "I need you to move, but how about we pay attention to each other," he said to the stallion on the other end of the longe line. In that exercise, running around the handler in circles was not the objective, and neither was the NH concept of "hooking on" or "join up." Just a connection in which the horse is engaged in a two-way communication with the human. With both parties mentally engaged, presumably!

THEME #8: It's not about doing battle; it's about finding a way to get along.

"People make corrections like they really enjoy doing it," Mark lamented. "Sometimes people use their horses as a way to take out their frustrations from work. It shouldn't be that. You're not supposed to like correcting him."

Mark emphasized finding ways to help the horses to success, rather than setting him up to fail only to be corrected for it. "He just wants to get along, and we can help him find a place where we can get along."

"You don't want to be fighting with him," Mark said to a rider whose horse was pushing out through the bit during the walk-to-halt transition. What Mark considers to be a human fighting with the horse is what many/most folks would call the horse bracing against the human. Sense a different connotation here?

"The softer you're getting, the less brace you're getting from the horse," he told one rider."The arguments are going away, because now we haven't argued with him,"

It did seem that the less the riders did, the more their horses were open to being asked for more. The horse doesn't shirk working with the human, just looks for a place where he can get along.

That meant sometimes overlooking a "misbehavior" in the short run for long-term gain. Consider the example of the tense horse being rehabilitated from abusive handling in a former life. He just couldn't stand still to be mounted. Make him stand still, right? Naw, Mark said. "If he feels he needs to move his feet a bit while you get on, that's fine for now," Mark told the rider. "The last thing he needs right now is more pressure." Any one of us can picture scenarios where trainers would have made a big issue of making the horse stand still while being mounted, and made the horse worse for lack of big-picture understanding.

Mark addressed the horse's tension with small serpentines and circles, ridden at a loose-rein trot. The circular movements required that the horse focus on his rider and served to "massage" some of the tension out of his upside-down neck and back. By the end of the session, the horse was making gentle explorations into stretching his topline down and round. The effect was brought about by healing exercises for his mind, not by fiddling with his head. And certainly not by tie-downs and side-reins, devices that were likely to blame for the horse's inverted posture to begin with.

Getting along has a lot to do with earning the horse's trust and giving him your trust, Mark emphasized. He prefers the concept of "trust" to the concept of "respect," and works with horses with that mentality, emphasizing a mutual partnership rather than a domination borne of respect. Where he did talk about respect, Mark made it clear that it was valid only to the extent that it was reciprocated. "You're not going to get respect if you don't give it," Mark said. "It's a two-way street."

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So, you ask, would you recommend attending a clinic with Mark Rashid? It depends on the person asking, I guess. ;-)

Anyone with a penchant for histrionics will surely go away disappointed. What Mark does is so quiet and so subtle that he'd be a sure turn-off for anyone who thinks horse training should be a rodeo.

Folks who brag about how rank their horses are and wear that as a badge of courage will hate to see their horses hypnotized by such seemingly self-evident prescriptions as "how to do less to get more."

But folks who want to quietly get along with their horses and offer their horses the best deal they canÖ those folks will find affirmation, new ideas, and a new level of awareness from the soft-spoken cowboy from Estes Park.

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