Mustang Luke’s Story
Steve Mantle says it was meant to be, and maybe it was. I suspected it periodically all along, but then maybe I was set up. When I first decided to adopt a BLM mustang, I was living a fairly predictable life as a local hunter/jumper trainer with a small string of lesson ponies, taking kids to horse shows on the weekends and doing rides on horses owned by working professionals through the week. Life was good, but routine bordering on mundane and I was stuck in a mental rut. Then Katrina happened at the end of summer 2005. Inspired by the crisis of abandoned pets in New Orleans, I made the journey to the stricken gulf coast to volunteer my efforts for a week. Upon returning from that experience I was overwhelmed with a feeling that my contribution was pathetically small, only a token offering. I vowed to make a change in my life, a permanent change, to offer the skills that I had to make a difference somewhere in the world that could be felt and was needed.
As a professional in the horse industry, the problem of what to do with an unwanted horse is forefront on my table on a regular basis. The glut of untrained, unbroke, lower quality young horses on the market is a huge contributor to the problem of unwanted horses. With a dead broke pleasure mount being worth about $2000, to train a low quality unpapered animal over a period of months to make him wanted simply isn’t economically smart, so no one bothers with them. I realized I could give back in that facet. I could take one, unwanted, unbroke horse and train him, and add him to the wanted category, regardless of the negative profit margin. In that way I would make a difference to that one horse, take that one horse out of the system, and in some small way, I would contribute to a solution.
Ever since I read Marguerite Henry’s book on the American mustangs and learned that it was possible to adopt one, I had wanted a BLM mustang. I spent many afternoons as a kid drawing plans for my mustang pen and shelter like the adoption brochure stated was a requirement. When I grew up enough to realize that the reality of me being a city kid did not ever include having a mustang pen in the backyard, I filed that dream away in the “someday” category.
At about the same time I had made the decision to give back by taking on a project unwanted horse, I read on an internet bulletin board that the BLM mustang program was struggling with too many horses and not enough potential adopters. No one wanted them seems. I pulled up the BLM site. An internet adoption had just ended and the site said the next adoption was to take place in just a few days. While looking over the available horses from the adoption just passed, a few caught my eye. It seemed a shame that mustangs are by and large considered unwanted, some of these are nice prospects, I thought while looking over the photos. I noticed that some horses were even being offered already halter broke. I got to thinking, maybe I could live that childhood dream of adopting a mustang after all! Maybe today was, in fact, “some day”. While daydreaming I thought, wouldn’t it be fantastic to have a red roan mustang, from one of the ranches that halter train them, and make it a hunter pony? It would have to be a gelding, and it would have to be coming 3yo, and it would have to be small enough to not grow past 14.2hh pony status... I’ll never find that though, I thought, that would be too lucky.
Soon the BLM site was updated and the next round of available horses was featured. As I scrolled down I saw a red roan being offered under the Mantle Ranch horses, one of the facilities who halter break the horses prior to adoption. The description said the horse was a coming 3yo, gelding, 13.2hh. I couldn’t believe it. Well now I have to do it, I thought, it must be fate. I sent away my application for adoption, got approved with 48 hours to spare before the end of the adoption, received my bidder ID and placed a bid.
It was already pretty down to the wire when someone else placed a bid on the red roan. We entered a bit of a bidding war all afternoon and into the evening. The next morning I had been outbid again. Bidding was to end that day, my time, at noon, while I was supposed to be at work and away from the computer. So I crossed my fingers, placed my final bid, closed the site and figured I’d leave it up to fate. It’s either meant to be or it isn’t, I told myself. Expecting to lose the bid, I decided to accept the outcome.
Amazingly, the other person did not bid again and I ended up with the final high bid on the red roan. Elation quickly crashed down into reality when the full understanding of what I had just done hit me. I was the proud new owner of a wild horse.
Oh well, he’s halter trained, it’ll be fine, I thought.
I emailed Steve at the Mantle Ranch, wanting to hear all about how well halter broke my new horse was.
What I got back was a big fat reality check:
Rebecca; Congratulations, He is coming along well, but his progress is and has been slow, as he was extremely scared and had a hard time getting to trust people. I can halter him in the round pen, and he is starting to lead some after we did some driving by exercises, which got his feet moving, and helped him to yield his hindquarters, he has been tied up 3 times and is ok with it as long as nothing else is happening, then he would react to the situation. He would really like to be a friend, but he is really scared and will absolutely go into the panic mode and the flight response, he will likely be back at square 1 when you get him from the shipping ordeal, but as long as you understand him and have experience with horses, and colts, and have time to give him time to make it then all should be good.
Sincerely Yours; Steve Mantle
My heart pretty much stopped when I read that. Wait, I didn’t sign up for this. I was expecting a halter broke baby, albeit a little shy, maybe a little shaky on having it’s feet handled, but able to lead at least, and able to be resold after titling. I started to get a little anxious then but figured there was no backing out now. Steve wrote me once more:
Rebecca; He really wants to get it and tries sooooo very hard, but his flight response is right up there and it just takes over, which with more handling and time and consistency he will make it just fine. Actually this colt probably made the biggest change of any of them that we started, when you consider where he was and where he is today, but with all that will happen in the next few weeks, you will probably think that nothing has been done, but trust me when you get him home and he gets landed and you can get back to the round pen it will only take a very short time for him to get back to where he is today. Please feel free to give me a call when you get him home, if you need some help or just anything I would be glad to in anyway that I can, I have really enjoyed working with this little guy, he is not the toughest that I have started by far, but he demands his time and wants to make sure it is ok, which is exactly what his instincts tell him he should. I really think that with one on one time and not having to share with 23 others he will make great progress for you. Have a great time and enjoy him, as he is one of the best teachers that I have been around in a while.
Sincerely Yours; Steve Mantle
I started to feel like at least I had a support network in Steve and it would all work itself out in the end. Besides, it would be a good experience, I told myself. Little did I know a horse named Luke was about to walk into my life and change it forever.
I begged and borrowed a truck and BLM approved trailer, found a break in the early February weather, and made the arduous 16 hour roundtrip, one day journey to pick up Luke at the Ewing, IL center and bring him home. I didn’t really get any kind of look at him at the BLM center considering just standing and looking at him in the chute sent him into a panic, poor creature. Of course I nodded and said yes I want him. What was I going to say after all this way, no send it back? I paid my balance, signed some forms, and then we were off. Any and all previous thoughts of resale were abandoned right then and there. I had my mustang!
When Luke got landed at home and settled into somewhat of a routine not only did I have the task of convincing him that the world wasn’t out to eat him, but I had to convince every person who came into contact with him that he wasn’t crazy and useless. The question most asked of me was “what are you going to do with him?”, to which I answered, “I dunno, ride him?”
My farrier refused to trim him (I had to hire a new one). My vet said sure he’ll work on a mustang, after all he has another client’s horse who is a BLM who “is a little funny to work on, but that’s to be expected, she was only adopted 14 years ago”. Sarcasm not withstanding, I was relieved he was at least willing. I had one vet who advised me to “stop telling people he’s a mustang if you ever want to make something of him, and the best thing you could do for yourself is to take that word off his stall.” Other trainers made fun of me behind my back saying “who would get a mustang as a project horse?” Then, when he started making some progress they scoffed and scolded me for taking too long and “not really doing anything with him.” Worse, I had some clients who said they believed I was being “cruel to take a mustang out of the wild”.
What he looked like didn’t help people’s perceptions either. He was small, 13.2hh, and skinny, awkwardly big headed and downhill built in his late 2yo year, with a tangled mane to his knees. Next to 16+hh fat show horses he looked like dog food. He was a red roan in winter coat, one woman said he looked like he had mange. He was terribly frightened, like Dorothy out of Kansas, plucked up from the Wyoming ranch land and dropped in a busy, public, hunter/jumper show barn just outside of Chicago. I had to work with him after hours, long after everyone had gone home, up and down the empty barn aisles for weeks. If he saw another human he would flee in the opposite direction as fast as his feet could move, and they could move fast.
I went to just sit with him for 5 or 10 minutes 6 or 8 times a day. He let me touch his nostrils the second day but periodically would have to leave. With the frequent visits he started to look forward to seeing me and with the complete isolation from other horses he decided pretty fast I was a decent replacement companion. Once he decided I was ok I figured it was time to start working.
He got some basic ground manners and slowly, as he investigated his new environment he started to replace fear with curiosity. It took him 10 days to venture out into the aisle, and another 3 to try walking all the way to the end. Slowly, a few feet further each night, I got him leading all over the closed barn.
One month after adoption I decided he was leading so well it was time to expand his world by leading him across the threshold to the great outdoors. My goal was to lead him to an outdoor round pen that was across an empty gravel parking lot from the barn. We got there for sure but in a different manner in which I intended. Just as we had cleared the door way and had nothing in front of us but the great expanse of the parking lot, one of the grooms walked out from behind a car. Luke caught sight of him and took off. When I say took off I mean at a gallop. I knew there was no way, in his panic, that I would catch him again if he got way from me so I, stupidly perhaps, hung on. Thank goodness for a 12’ lead. I lost my feet and he dragged me on my belly across the gravel. He was in full gallop by then with no signs of stopping and I knew my only hope was to get my legs in front of me to maybe wheel him around. Somehow I succeeded in getting my feet out in front of me, and by this time he had cleared the parking lot and was now on the grass. I dug my heels in and yanked as hard as I could and he slammed the brakes, spun around to face me and stopped. He stood there blowing and wide eyed as I picked myself up, pretending not to be hurt, walked back to his head, patted him for stopping, and clucked to walk on. My heart was racing after that, it was too far to risk going back to the barn, the round pen was closer. I was pretty banged up and had no further stomach for another gravel slip n’slide ride. Thankfully, he walked on amazingly quietly and we made it to the round pen.
I had learned my lesson. I didn’t get to decide when the mustang was ready to do things, he got to decide, but it was my job to convince him that it was ok to try. Unless he got over his fear, nothing I tried to teach him was going to stick, he would never be safe to work around. He would never be 100% reliable. I pushed pause on the training tape and threw the manual out the window. I cleared my head of anything I thought I knew about training and young horses and set out on a mission to learn as much as I could from as many sources as were willing to share. As much as that moment gave me great pause, and tremendous respect for his physical ability, I couldn’t give up on this horse. If I didn’t do it, no one else was going to pick up my slack.
Having Luke forced me to grow as a horse trainer and as a human being. Thanks to the internet, I was able to seek advice from colleagues across the country and from different disciplines. I learned new methods and ways of thinking. I discovered alternative ideas that I had never considered before. Most of all I learned that the only thing that stood in my way with this little horse was a mindset that I knew enough already. We slowed way down. We went at his pace. We forgot about “training” and started focusing on Luke just becoming comfortable in his own skin. I needed confidence from him.
Sure, he learned to yield his haunches and shoulders and neck, to one rein stop, and lunge both ways. He learned a perfect “whoa”, to stand tied, and to trust strange people. He went on to clip and fly spray, have his feet trimmed and get a bath. He learned to wear a surcingle and ground drive all over the property. But amidst it all was the underlying theme of building confidence, to have no fear, to trust, and for me to be worthy of it. Six months after I picked him up from the BLM I sat on his back for the first time. You would have thought it was the 80th time. He walked off broke. He has *never* bucked. He has never had a bad day. He has never ended on a bad note, he has never needed to be roughed up or forced or even worked to a sweat. He always tries so very, very hard to be good and figure out the task. Just show him, let him digest it, and he will do it to the best of his ability. Quietly, Luke learned to replace fear with curious interest, and to replace his panic with positive expectations. He is a far cry from the skinny little scared to death wild horse who ended up backwards in the BLM chute and dragged me across a gravel parking lot in a panic. Sometimes, even I have a hard time remembering him like that.
Now days, as far as Luke is concerned, life is full of positive experiences, people are bringers of good things, and work is something to look forward to. He is riding in the ring beside show hunters and lesson ponies as quiet and relaxed and confident as can be, with no fear or nervousness or anything other then perfect gentleman behavior. He can take time off and walk right back into the program ready to work with no nonsense and no funny business, no “forgetting himself” or starting over. The horse who was scared to death of humans now gravitates toward people, even though he never receives food by hand. He has a fan club of students and other horse owners who are constantly amazed at his charm and history and are regularly entertained with his seasonal color change. He's a huge ham. Absolutely no one can walk right by him without stopping to regard him. In a barn with 96 head and a constant flow of public, HE is the one everyone stops and admires and asks about, passing up 30K warmbloods and show horses to oogle over the barely 14hh roan pony.
Even the farm crew, with all the livestock they deal with daily, have a soft spot for him. I taught a lesson on Luke for the first time last week and the senior member of our work force left his lunch hour to watch. When Luke jumped for the first time with a student aboard this 70 year old man who speaks about 10 words of English raised his arms to cheer! He calls Luke 'Moostang' and 'My Friend'.
I will certainly get another BLM, I would love to have a lesson program full of mustangs. I think people in this area just don't know how nice mustangs can be because they don't have any examples in their world. Hopefully Luke and I can change some of that starting this summer on the Chicago hunter circuit. Big plans, I know, but it never hurts to have big dreams. So far he hasn’t let me down.
Rebecca Zinke owner/trainer
As a professional in the horse industry, the problem of what to do with an unwanted horse is forefront on my table on a regular basis. The glut of untrained, unbroke, lower quality young horses on the market is a huge contributor to the problem of unwanted horses. With a dead broke pleasure mount being worth about $2000, to train a low quality unpapered animal over a period of months to make him wanted simply isn’t economically smart, so no one bothers with them. I realized I could give back in that facet. I could take one, unwanted, unbroke horse and train him, and add him to the wanted category, regardless of the negative profit margin. In that way I would make a difference to that one horse, take that one horse out of the system, and in some small way, I would contribute to a solution.
Ever since I read Marguerite Henry’s book on the American mustangs and learned that it was possible to adopt one, I had wanted a BLM mustang. I spent many afternoons as a kid drawing plans for my mustang pen and shelter like the adoption brochure stated was a requirement. When I grew up enough to realize that the reality of me being a city kid did not ever include having a mustang pen in the backyard, I filed that dream away in the “someday” category.
At about the same time I had made the decision to give back by taking on a project unwanted horse, I read on an internet bulletin board that the BLM mustang program was struggling with too many horses and not enough potential adopters. No one wanted them seems. I pulled up the BLM site. An internet adoption had just ended and the site said the next adoption was to take place in just a few days. While looking over the available horses from the adoption just passed, a few caught my eye. It seemed a shame that mustangs are by and large considered unwanted, some of these are nice prospects, I thought while looking over the photos. I noticed that some horses were even being offered already halter broke. I got to thinking, maybe I could live that childhood dream of adopting a mustang after all! Maybe today was, in fact, “some day”. While daydreaming I thought, wouldn’t it be fantastic to have a red roan mustang, from one of the ranches that halter train them, and make it a hunter pony? It would have to be a gelding, and it would have to be coming 3yo, and it would have to be small enough to not grow past 14.2hh pony status... I’ll never find that though, I thought, that would be too lucky.
Soon the BLM site was updated and the next round of available horses was featured. As I scrolled down I saw a red roan being offered under the Mantle Ranch horses, one of the facilities who halter break the horses prior to adoption. The description said the horse was a coming 3yo, gelding, 13.2hh. I couldn’t believe it. Well now I have to do it, I thought, it must be fate. I sent away my application for adoption, got approved with 48 hours to spare before the end of the adoption, received my bidder ID and placed a bid.
It was already pretty down to the wire when someone else placed a bid on the red roan. We entered a bit of a bidding war all afternoon and into the evening. The next morning I had been outbid again. Bidding was to end that day, my time, at noon, while I was supposed to be at work and away from the computer. So I crossed my fingers, placed my final bid, closed the site and figured I’d leave it up to fate. It’s either meant to be or it isn’t, I told myself. Expecting to lose the bid, I decided to accept the outcome.
Amazingly, the other person did not bid again and I ended up with the final high bid on the red roan. Elation quickly crashed down into reality when the full understanding of what I had just done hit me. I was the proud new owner of a wild horse.
Oh well, he’s halter trained, it’ll be fine, I thought.
I emailed Steve at the Mantle Ranch, wanting to hear all about how well halter broke my new horse was.
What I got back was a big fat reality check:
Rebecca; Congratulations, He is coming along well, but his progress is and has been slow, as he was extremely scared and had a hard time getting to trust people. I can halter him in the round pen, and he is starting to lead some after we did some driving by exercises, which got his feet moving, and helped him to yield his hindquarters, he has been tied up 3 times and is ok with it as long as nothing else is happening, then he would react to the situation. He would really like to be a friend, but he is really scared and will absolutely go into the panic mode and the flight response, he will likely be back at square 1 when you get him from the shipping ordeal, but as long as you understand him and have experience with horses, and colts, and have time to give him time to make it then all should be good.
Sincerely Yours; Steve Mantle
My heart pretty much stopped when I read that. Wait, I didn’t sign up for this. I was expecting a halter broke baby, albeit a little shy, maybe a little shaky on having it’s feet handled, but able to lead at least, and able to be resold after titling. I started to get a little anxious then but figured there was no backing out now. Steve wrote me once more:
Rebecca; He really wants to get it and tries sooooo very hard, but his flight response is right up there and it just takes over, which with more handling and time and consistency he will make it just fine. Actually this colt probably made the biggest change of any of them that we started, when you consider where he was and where he is today, but with all that will happen in the next few weeks, you will probably think that nothing has been done, but trust me when you get him home and he gets landed and you can get back to the round pen it will only take a very short time for him to get back to where he is today. Please feel free to give me a call when you get him home, if you need some help or just anything I would be glad to in anyway that I can, I have really enjoyed working with this little guy, he is not the toughest that I have started by far, but he demands his time and wants to make sure it is ok, which is exactly what his instincts tell him he should. I really think that with one on one time and not having to share with 23 others he will make great progress for you. Have a great time and enjoy him, as he is one of the best teachers that I have been around in a while.
Sincerely Yours; Steve Mantle
I started to feel like at least I had a support network in Steve and it would all work itself out in the end. Besides, it would be a good experience, I told myself. Little did I know a horse named Luke was about to walk into my life and change it forever.
I begged and borrowed a truck and BLM approved trailer, found a break in the early February weather, and made the arduous 16 hour roundtrip, one day journey to pick up Luke at the Ewing, IL center and bring him home. I didn’t really get any kind of look at him at the BLM center considering just standing and looking at him in the chute sent him into a panic, poor creature. Of course I nodded and said yes I want him. What was I going to say after all this way, no send it back? I paid my balance, signed some forms, and then we were off. Any and all previous thoughts of resale were abandoned right then and there. I had my mustang!
When Luke got landed at home and settled into somewhat of a routine not only did I have the task of convincing him that the world wasn’t out to eat him, but I had to convince every person who came into contact with him that he wasn’t crazy and useless. The question most asked of me was “what are you going to do with him?”, to which I answered, “I dunno, ride him?”
My farrier refused to trim him (I had to hire a new one). My vet said sure he’ll work on a mustang, after all he has another client’s horse who is a BLM who “is a little funny to work on, but that’s to be expected, she was only adopted 14 years ago”. Sarcasm not withstanding, I was relieved he was at least willing. I had one vet who advised me to “stop telling people he’s a mustang if you ever want to make something of him, and the best thing you could do for yourself is to take that word off his stall.” Other trainers made fun of me behind my back saying “who would get a mustang as a project horse?” Then, when he started making some progress they scoffed and scolded me for taking too long and “not really doing anything with him.” Worse, I had some clients who said they believed I was being “cruel to take a mustang out of the wild”.
What he looked like didn’t help people’s perceptions either. He was small, 13.2hh, and skinny, awkwardly big headed and downhill built in his late 2yo year, with a tangled mane to his knees. Next to 16+hh fat show horses he looked like dog food. He was a red roan in winter coat, one woman said he looked like he had mange. He was terribly frightened, like Dorothy out of Kansas, plucked up from the Wyoming ranch land and dropped in a busy, public, hunter/jumper show barn just outside of Chicago. I had to work with him after hours, long after everyone had gone home, up and down the empty barn aisles for weeks. If he saw another human he would flee in the opposite direction as fast as his feet could move, and they could move fast.
I went to just sit with him for 5 or 10 minutes 6 or 8 times a day. He let me touch his nostrils the second day but periodically would have to leave. With the frequent visits he started to look forward to seeing me and with the complete isolation from other horses he decided pretty fast I was a decent replacement companion. Once he decided I was ok I figured it was time to start working.
He got some basic ground manners and slowly, as he investigated his new environment he started to replace fear with curiosity. It took him 10 days to venture out into the aisle, and another 3 to try walking all the way to the end. Slowly, a few feet further each night, I got him leading all over the closed barn.
One month after adoption I decided he was leading so well it was time to expand his world by leading him across the threshold to the great outdoors. My goal was to lead him to an outdoor round pen that was across an empty gravel parking lot from the barn. We got there for sure but in a different manner in which I intended. Just as we had cleared the door way and had nothing in front of us but the great expanse of the parking lot, one of the grooms walked out from behind a car. Luke caught sight of him and took off. When I say took off I mean at a gallop. I knew there was no way, in his panic, that I would catch him again if he got way from me so I, stupidly perhaps, hung on. Thank goodness for a 12’ lead. I lost my feet and he dragged me on my belly across the gravel. He was in full gallop by then with no signs of stopping and I knew my only hope was to get my legs in front of me to maybe wheel him around. Somehow I succeeded in getting my feet out in front of me, and by this time he had cleared the parking lot and was now on the grass. I dug my heels in and yanked as hard as I could and he slammed the brakes, spun around to face me and stopped. He stood there blowing and wide eyed as I picked myself up, pretending not to be hurt, walked back to his head, patted him for stopping, and clucked to walk on. My heart was racing after that, it was too far to risk going back to the barn, the round pen was closer. I was pretty banged up and had no further stomach for another gravel slip n’slide ride. Thankfully, he walked on amazingly quietly and we made it to the round pen.
I had learned my lesson. I didn’t get to decide when the mustang was ready to do things, he got to decide, but it was my job to convince him that it was ok to try. Unless he got over his fear, nothing I tried to teach him was going to stick, he would never be safe to work around. He would never be 100% reliable. I pushed pause on the training tape and threw the manual out the window. I cleared my head of anything I thought I knew about training and young horses and set out on a mission to learn as much as I could from as many sources as were willing to share. As much as that moment gave me great pause, and tremendous respect for his physical ability, I couldn’t give up on this horse. If I didn’t do it, no one else was going to pick up my slack.
Having Luke forced me to grow as a horse trainer and as a human being. Thanks to the internet, I was able to seek advice from colleagues across the country and from different disciplines. I learned new methods and ways of thinking. I discovered alternative ideas that I had never considered before. Most of all I learned that the only thing that stood in my way with this little horse was a mindset that I knew enough already. We slowed way down. We went at his pace. We forgot about “training” and started focusing on Luke just becoming comfortable in his own skin. I needed confidence from him.
Sure, he learned to yield his haunches and shoulders and neck, to one rein stop, and lunge both ways. He learned a perfect “whoa”, to stand tied, and to trust strange people. He went on to clip and fly spray, have his feet trimmed and get a bath. He learned to wear a surcingle and ground drive all over the property. But amidst it all was the underlying theme of building confidence, to have no fear, to trust, and for me to be worthy of it. Six months after I picked him up from the BLM I sat on his back for the first time. You would have thought it was the 80th time. He walked off broke. He has *never* bucked. He has never had a bad day. He has never ended on a bad note, he has never needed to be roughed up or forced or even worked to a sweat. He always tries so very, very hard to be good and figure out the task. Just show him, let him digest it, and he will do it to the best of his ability. Quietly, Luke learned to replace fear with curious interest, and to replace his panic with positive expectations. He is a far cry from the skinny little scared to death wild horse who ended up backwards in the BLM chute and dragged me across a gravel parking lot in a panic. Sometimes, even I have a hard time remembering him like that.
Now days, as far as Luke is concerned, life is full of positive experiences, people are bringers of good things, and work is something to look forward to. He is riding in the ring beside show hunters and lesson ponies as quiet and relaxed and confident as can be, with no fear or nervousness or anything other then perfect gentleman behavior. He can take time off and walk right back into the program ready to work with no nonsense and no funny business, no “forgetting himself” or starting over. The horse who was scared to death of humans now gravitates toward people, even though he never receives food by hand. He has a fan club of students and other horse owners who are constantly amazed at his charm and history and are regularly entertained with his seasonal color change. He's a huge ham. Absolutely no one can walk right by him without stopping to regard him. In a barn with 96 head and a constant flow of public, HE is the one everyone stops and admires and asks about, passing up 30K warmbloods and show horses to oogle over the barely 14hh roan pony.
Even the farm crew, with all the livestock they deal with daily, have a soft spot for him. I taught a lesson on Luke for the first time last week and the senior member of our work force left his lunch hour to watch. When Luke jumped for the first time with a student aboard this 70 year old man who speaks about 10 words of English raised his arms to cheer! He calls Luke 'Moostang' and 'My Friend'.
I will certainly get another BLM, I would love to have a lesson program full of mustangs. I think people in this area just don't know how nice mustangs can be because they don't have any examples in their world. Hopefully Luke and I can change some of that starting this summer on the Chicago hunter circuit. Big plans, I know, but it never hurts to have big dreams. So far he hasn’t let me down.
Rebecca Zinke owner/trainer
