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By Boswell
Monty Roberts is the man that the best selling novel, The Horse Whisperer is based on: in his own words, he is the man that 'listens to horses.' and that is also the title of his recently published autobiography. As a promotional aid Monty Roberts has been touring the riding schools of the UK demonstrating his technique for 'breaking' horses and showing off on his own horse Duality.
The closest he came to North London, that well known centre of equitation and country pursuits, was the large and noisy Patchetts Green stables just off the M1. Thus it was to Patchetts Green that I went in order to see for myself how to understand and communicate with horses. If you are not interested in horses than I suggest you skip the rest of this article. For myself, I have loved horses ever since I can remember and even owned two, but for all that I have never really believed that it is possible to establish a consistent and predictable system of communication. Monty Roberts would say otherwise. His credo borders on the Dr Doolittle (an epithet he spurns) but whereas Dr D talks to the animals, Mr Roberts lets them do the talking and he has learnt to understand what they are saying. This is something that most of us do to a point anyway. e.g. cat yawls and starts to demolish furniture = feed me, dog sits hopefully by bowl = feed me, Shark bites off leg = Its OK, I'll help myself. Mr Roberts extends his work as an interpreter to all sorts of beasties including trout. 'No, really, this is serious, he claims to communicate with trout. (Shades of ' I talk to trees.'). He has become something of a guru in recent years and has been invited to work with HM the Queen's horses as well as several million quids worth of racehorses with problems. It was a packed house - well indoor school- that awaited the passing on of such knowledge with a mixture of adoration and cynicism.
Monty Roberts is a man who it would be easy to overlook. He is shortish, a little chubby and walks with a turned in leg and shuffling gait. He is not John Wayne, he is not Obi ben Kenobi, he is an amiable and affable fellow from California who travels the world preaching his credo of kindness towards horses. At first glance there is something clownish about him, non-threatening but not welcoming either. However, any notion of a clownish disposition is absolutely dissolved by the seriousness of his talk. Aware of the potential for derision he is so passionate about his system that he disarms any cynic before the first 'humph' is heard.
He alludes disturbingly to his father's cynicism and disapproval and the battle he has ad to fight to get his humane methods taken seriously in the macho-macho world of horse breaking cowboy style. The basic premise of his system is that the horse is a flight animal and that in order for it to accept you it has to brought to realise that you are its friend and its is better off with you than without you. This decision taken by the unbroken horse is what Roberts calls 'join up' and he can bring any horse, wild or not, to the moment of join up within 30 minute.
Gone are the bucking bronco images of horse breaking and instead I, and several hundred other people watched Monty Roberts bring a horse to join-up, saddle it and have it quietly trotting about within 40 minutes of it first entering the arena. To say this is amazing is an understatement. It is gob-smacking in the same way that David Copperfield pulling a jumbo jet from his handkerchief would be gob-smacking. Nevertheless I saw it happen.
During the break the audience (moseyed(?)) outside. I was gasping for a cigarette and my extremities were starting to drop off from the cold. As I cradled a polystyrene cup full of black, non-descript coffee and lurked in the shadows covering the no smoking sign as best I could, I met up with a fellow addict. Huddled around our little tobacco bonfires for warmth, we struck up a conversation in the way that smokers do. First you talk about non-smokers and after this pre-amble get on to non-smoking related topics like horses. Although she clearly wanted to believe what she had seen she doubted that it would really work with one of her own horses who had been badly treated and was in consequence the equine equivalent of a maladjusted adolescent. I had to agree. My own limited experience makes me both eager to believe that a humane and 'lets be friends' attitude would be as effective as ' do this or you'll be sorry' attitude but somehow I just can't quite make it work.
Horses are flight animals and therefore they ought to be wary of predatory bipeds wearing jodhpurs and leather boots (who wouldn't be?) but many's the time I have seen the devoted owner of a horse literally kicked in the teeth for their troubles. These are people who gladly and happily give their last polo mint to the animal that is probably bankrupting them, owners who make nice warm bran meals for their beloved if the weather is slightly damp and buy them lovely matching sets of stable rugs which the horse delights in chewing or crapping on. More often than not it is the owner who is put upon and damaged and who can end up a hell of a sight more wary of the horse than vice versa.
Believing all horses can be made to trail around lovingly after their join-up partner all trust and love and flowers is like believing that people are all really beautiful and the world is a beautiful place and lift music is really great and Ecstasy is really good for you man. Sorry, wake up call, smell the coffee... it ain't necessarily so.
Some horses are just plain ornery and the only way they are likely to be interested in join-up would be if their hoof were to join up with your head. They are not cuddly, they are not devoted, they are not pets. I am feeling particularly bitter on this point having just forked out £17.00 to have an hour riding on a horse whose main ambition was to chuck me off and have an early night. 'She's being a bit mareish' was this explanation, bit nightmarish if you ask me. Anyway, a bad tempered horse with post-Christmas glums and PMT is not my idea of life on Follyoot Farm. Every time this grump equine bucked I instinctively tugged at the reins and shouted at it, driving it onto the bit and keeping the head up. Eventually she settled and then I remembered Monty Roberts and cursed myself for losing my temper and not seeking to be friends with this monster. This has been the lasting effect of the demonstration he gave. I may still revert to type and want to dominate a difficult horse but I think about the alternative and wish I could make it work for me. Guilt is now an ingredient. The horse wouldn't understand. I'm not sure I do but at least it's set me wondering and that's a start.
The final part of Monty Roberts' demonstration was an exhibition of his oneness with his own prize winning rodeo horse Dually. To see this weird looking horse with a gait as awkward as his rider do things that you would not believe possible is the greatest testimony to the rightness of Robert's system. He rode at a flat out gallop and then, without any apparent aid, brought the horse to an abrupt halt as though it has slammed into an invisible wall; the horse spun on its haunches like a dervish and again I could see no aid being given.
It was an impressive display of man and animal working together as equals. It really did appear to be a kind of telepathy between horse and rider, synchronous, natural and well, beautiful man.