“I feel your pain.” “That person is a real pain.” Does the person making those comments feel physical pain? In tough economic times we say farmers are really hurting or truckers are hurting, but we don’t mean physical pain. Our topic here has little to do with physical pain. I may be involved in a calculated and measures, very brief way to some degree, but the pain referred to here has more to do with the struggle involved in learning lessons, mastering concepts and coming to grips with reality.

Preparing the soil for a crop requires a lot of humdrum work and considerable expense. However, in order to get a good crop that will feed man and beast, it cannot be avoided. The pleasure of the harvest is always preceded by the “pain” of preparation and planting.

This illustrates a huge problem in the horse world. We want the harvest but we dislike, fear or don’t understand the purpose in planting. Soil preparation is disruptive; planting is done fairly quickly but the sprouting and growth of the plant takes moisture, sunshine and time.

It appears, then, that pain has purpose. Well, not always. A lot of pain in the world has no purpose for those bearing that pain. Third-world countries with heartless dictators, tribal wars, blatant fraud, corruption and religions that create oppression and have no regard for human life inflict suffering that has no redeeming purpose or value. It can only produce despair. The reason is that the oversight is self-serving and has no regard for those it oversees.

Conversely, oversight or authority that purposes ultimate good understands that the good that is intended must have a solid foundation and deep roots. This will provide strength and durability — until the original principles are abandoned and deterioration sets in. We are the management, the authority, the farmer and the government in our horses’ lives.

Pain redemptive hope is torture and is without purpose. It is precisely what constitutes abuse. The abused human or horse is suffering in some way that has no redemptive purpose. We endure surgery and dental work because there is purpose in the suffering. We have veterinarians “hurt” our horses because we know there will be a positive outcome. Is the vet abusive because the gelded colt has a period of soreness during the healing process?

Veterinarians endured long, tough and expensive schooling. In times of discouragement they reminded themselves of the prize: becoming a vet and ministering healing to our critters. Pain in the process led to the intended goal. The pain here was simply the matter of struggle and keeping the faith.

How does this apply to a horse? Joy in the journey is certainly a human trait and does not really fit. Yet the journey should be pleasant for a horse, and can be for one that enjoys the contentment provided by competent leadership. When a horse is round penned, it is trapped, frightened into running and then chased into submission. I know there is more to it than just that, but really, that is basically what it amounts to. The horse is scared, upset and running for its life. Does that make round penning bad? No, of course not. The handler who knows what he or she is doing will help that horse come to some positive solutions in the time it takes the particular horse to figure it all out.

As the horse’s confusion melts away, the pain of the process sets in motion a journey into the human world with all its strangeness. The horse steadily gets comfortable with the new expectations and requirements and, with the oversight of a benevolent dictator, the struggle or process begins to yield redemptive hope. That hope in turn gives the horse a reason to enter into a partnership with his human.

There is no magic in a round pen or any other gadget or idea that we can come up with. If all a handler is doing is chasing a horse until it gets tired, it is abusive if the stress or pressure applied does not provide the horse an opportunity to make a response and become a participant. Anything that is confusing to a horse is abusive because the horse is deprived of the leadership it is looking for. The most common form of abuse in today’s horse world is not physical. It is the mental abuse inflicted by confused people who cannot or will not provide leadership with integrity for their horses.

The pendulum has swung from some physical abuses of the past to the mental abuses of the present. The currently abused horses show no physical scars because the scars are on the mind and spirit. Because mental scars cannot be seen, people have the illusion that all is well. When the mentally abuse, leadership-deprived horse acts up or acts out, many assume that the horse was physically abused by bad people. No, most of the time it is presently abused by good people with bad information and bad horse-handling concepts.

Now, how do we fit into this scenario? Only after we have endured the struggle of laying our own foundation of knowledge and understanding can we start really connecting with our horses. Then, after a time of settling into our horse-human relationship, we may take on a challenge of helping a mildly troubled horse. As we guide it through the steps it needs to get its stuff together, we experience something new. It is the pleasure or the joy that comes from helping a troubled horse shed its misconceptions, preconceived ideas and dedication to its own agenda, Without the pain of the process we would not know the joy of the journey.

We are climbing a mountain that has no top. We are traveling a road that has no end. If somebody tells you about a road that has an end, that’s exactly right. It is a dead end that leads to nowhere. When we think we have it all figured out, we will meet a horse that will make us look pretty silly. If we understand that there is always more to learn, meeting that horse will not throw us for a loop because we will see it as an opportunity to learn a new way to help a troubled horse. It is not possible to look into the eyes of a freshly reformed horse and not experience something that is at least similar to joy.

Pain in the process has everything to do with choices, and choices are inevitable because options exist. When we choose to do what we feel like doing as opposed to what we know we should or shouldn’t do, we will suffer a consequence of some kind sooner or later. The problem of delayed consequences simply will not go away. It’s the delay that fools us. If we touch a hot stove, we learn instantly — unless our nervous system is slow and it doesn’t hurt until 10 minutes later. Eventually we figure it out after some repetition.

Humans can warn and teach each other verbally regarding right and wrong, dos and don’ts. We think abstractly and understand morality. But our horses can’t possibly have a clue as to our expectations. We pull them out of their world into ours by force; it is not their choice. We own them. Anything owned is controlled by the owner. We use horses for our benefit, be it pleasure, utility or both. For that to happen in the most positive way, stewardship must become the biggest part of ownership. For the horse to become our servant or employee, it must have an understanding of what is expected. To give the horse that understanding, we provide options. Our response to the horse’s choice of those options gives the horse the information it needs to make future choices. We force the horse to choose but give it the freedom to choose between the options we have provided.

When we make the right thing pleasant and the wrong thing consequential, the horse starts to catch on to our requirements. If this process is to have clarity, the roots of that clarity will be in how well we have answered the horse’s three basic questions: What do I need to be afraid of? What can I get away with? What do you want? Our answers to these questions let the horse know whether or not it can trust or respect us.

Round pens, white sticks, ropes, straps, bits, whips or any other gadget we use must in that use offer choices that bring clarity to the process. If the pain of the process does not lead to joy in the journey, it is abuse no matter how gentle it may be.

Just my opinion.

Warren Bengtson has been a farrier for 40 years. He believes a proper relationship with the horse is essential to everything else in a horse-human partnership.