Popcorn: Becoming Trainer and Detective For A Terrified Horse

I hit the ground hard. The jacket I was wearing over my sweater did little to break my fall. But I didn't have time to evaluate for any injuries. I jumped to my feet, spun, and searched for the horse that had just bucked me off. 

  He stood only ten yards from me. His eyes were wide. His sides were puffing heavily from his adrenaline. But he hadn’t continued running. I sent up a prayer of thanks for that miracle.

“What happened, boy?”

He just looked at me as I took hold of his bridle. He seemed as shocked as I was by what had just occurred. I stiffly climbed back into the saddle after calming him for a few minutes. Home wasn’t far, and we reached it without any further incidents. While untacking and grooming my horse-in-training, I stopped, leaned my head against his neck, and closed my eyes.

“Lord, You have gotten us this far.” I prayed. “Give me the wisdom to understand exactly what this horse needs to overcome his fears.”

~

A few weeks earlier…

At first, Popcorn seemed like the perfect horse. He was a beautiful buckskin gelding. Tall and lean. Four black stockings. And extremely easy to work with on the ground. Even as my brother and I took those first few rides on him, he continued to give us great behavior. It wasn’t until we took Popcorn on our first trail ride that the reason he’d been brought to us for training became abundantly clear.

You see, his owner had told us about how buddy-sour Popcorn had become. Buddy sour refers to the behavior of a horse that doesn’t like to be away from other horses; sometimes that means the horse had one specific friend that he doesn’t want to be separated from, or it may be their herd that they don’t want to leave. But for Popcorn, it went even further. He just couldn’t bear to be without another horse with him. Didn’t matter who the horse was, a member of his herd or some random horse nearby: it just needed to be there. If another horse was within easy sight, Popcorn was a model mount. If they went out of sight… Well, that was another story entirely. 

The moment you got out of sight from any other equines, Popcorn became extremely nervous. And that nervousness often turned into explosive behavior - bucking, bolting, and even rearing. None of this was done out of meanness or an attempt to hurt his rider; instead, it was the expression of his fear.

Dangerous Behaviors

My brother Ben experienced it on an evening ride through the forest, on a trail not far from the barn. Halfway home, things turned dangerous. Just as they reached the bottom of a steep hill and crossing a small ditch of water, Popcorn spooked. And that spook turned into a bucking fit. Ben managed to stay on even as Popcorn took off across the forest floor. Ben could barely steer as they flew at full speed through the shadowy, winding forest path. Climbing up the other side, Popcorn began to buck again, and then he reared. At such a sharp angle, Ben could no longer stay in the saddle. He fell backwards, somehow managing to land on his feet; Popcorn’s front hooves still pawing the air. The horse lost his footing on the leaf-strewn ground, stumbling a moment before coming to a stop. Ben cautiously approached Popcorn in the quickly falling darkness. Thankfully, neither was injured. They slowly made their way home. 

         Popcorn and I had another incident in training not long afterwards. We had gone for a trail ride: Ben on Reina, me on Popcorn. We had plans to separate for only a few minutes at a time. Our hope was to build up Popcorn’s confidence by seeing how the other horses would always come back. Our first try wasn’t bad, as Popcorn only pranced in place for the less-than sixty seconds Reina and Ben were out of sight. Our next try did not go so well. Ben had just ridden out of view when something shifted in Popcorn; his restraint had slipped. I took a deep breath and tried to calm him. But it was too late. I felt as though it happened in slow motion - Popcorn reared, so high I had to lean forward and grab his mane to keep from being thrown from the saddle.

“Easy, easy boy. It’s okay, Popcorn.” I tried to calm him when he had all four feet on the ground again, but it was no use. 

We flew upwards again. I cued him forward when he came down, circling him in hopes of refocusing him on me. He jerked on the reins and reared again, so high I feared he would send us both falling backwards. The moment his feet hit the ground, he’d go flying up again. I tried to balance while giving no pressure on the rein. I knew if I pulled on the reins while he was rearing, I could send him and me both crashing downward. My heartbeat was thudding in my ears, and I struggled to breathe. I tried to send Popcorn forward, but he was no longer responding to my cues. The next time he reared, he began walking backwards on his hind legs. He did it twice. I chanced a look behind us, and my heart stopped. We were mere feet from a gulley that plunged 9 to 12 feet to a wet-weather creek. A vision of Popcorn and me landing in a heap of broken bones among twisted roots and sharp rocks flashed through my mind. 

“No, Popcorn. No.” I kicked him to drive him forward again, desperately trying to get us away from the impending danger. 

He bolted, but I didn’t care. We were finally moving with all four hooves on the ground. I managed to turn him in a large circle, and we finally slowed. He did a few more small hops. I was extremely relieved when Ben and Reina came back into sight. Hardly more than five minutes had passed. Yet my hands were going numb, and I was breathing like I’d just run a mile. Popcorn’s sides were heaving. But with Reina back, he calmed down and made it back home.

Now, with three falls off Popcorn (Ben once, twice for me) and several of these close calls, we could see how deep-seated these issues were. We needed to understand it in order to help Popcorm overcome his fears, for his safety as well as for his riders'.

Searching For Answers

We knew we were going to have to start at the very beginning. My brother Ben and I did extensive research on horses with behaviors like Popcorn’s. We experimented with different techniques - some that we learned from others and some that we made up on the go. We wanted Popcorn to experience riding as a fun and engaging thing to do and not as something to dread. Because the longer he continued in this pattern, the worse he would become. He thought that leaving other horses would be dangerous, and he was proving himself right over and over by his own actions. We tried working him near the horses and leaving the horses when giving him breaks to rest. We tried loosening his girth and unsaddling him out of sight of the horses to help him associate release with people, not horses. We would ride to where he would be fed. And while it was clear that Popcorn was really trying for us, he was still a nervous and jittery horse. His behaviors were showing some improvement, but mentally, he was still just as afraid. And we couldn’t leave him there. We didn’t want to just treat the symptoms; we wanted to find the cause. 

“Lord,” We prayed. “Show us how to help this horse.”

Our answer came the day my farrier came to trim for our horses and put a new set of shoes on Popcorn. When I began telling him about the issues we’d encountered with Popcorn, he immediately began looking over the gelding. And it didn’t take him long to have a diagnosis for us. 

“He’s got stomach ulcers.” He said.

And with more than fifty years of in-depth horse experience, I trusted his extensive knowledge. He is the #1 person I go to with any horse-related questions, and his advice never fails to be spot-on every time. 

“Get him on an ulcer supplement and he’ll feel better and settle down.” He continued. 

He told us it wouldn’t be a magic cure, but it would give him what he needed to move forward in his training. And we got to watch those words come true.

Now armed with this valuable information, we found a good ulcer supplement and had Popcorn on it the next day. I dove into research on stomach ulcers in horses, and I saw how common this ailment can be for nervous horses and all the ways we could help Popcorn find relief from the pain. It also explained his reactions to riding away from horses. 

He no doubt developed these ulcers from a natural sense of worry, but over time, he had connected the pain to fear. His reluctance to be away from horses had slowly brought on the ulcers, and now being away from horses made the ulcers worse. It was fear-induced pain. It was a chain reaction that had spiraled into dangerous bursts of fear, made manifest in his bucking and rearing. It all made so much sense! 

Happy Endings

After only a few weeks, Popcorn became calmer, quieter, and less anxious. We still had lots of training to do, lots of scenarios to work through, since these reactions had morphed into habits. But with the pain eased, he could actually begin to learn and process what we were trying to teach him. He could hear us, focus on us. He was able to channel all of his amazing energy into productive movement. Best of all, he was no longer living in fear and pain, no longer a danger to himself and others. It was absolutely beautiful to watch. In a month’s time, we were able to take Popcorn on a two-mile trail ride all by himself - all without any panic, rearing, or resistance. 

Popcorn stayed at the stables all Fall, until the cold of winter began to settle in. And he became a true joy to ride wherever we went. By the time his owner came to pick him back up, Popcorn and I had covered many miles together. It was hard to see him go.

But the next Spring, the owner told me that Popcorn was still doing great and loving his job moving cattle on their ranch. 

I’ve found that every horse I meet will teach me in three different ways: something about horsemanship, something about life, and something about myself. With Popcorn it was no different. He reminded me that there is always a reason for a horse’s actions; we might not understand it at first, but if we will keep searching, we will find the answer we need to help us and our horses move forward. He taught me that pain does not have to be permanent; there is a way to overcome and be all that we are meant to be. And Popcorn showed me that when I relied on God, I was capable of doing more than I’d thought I could do. I learned that whenever I climb into the saddle, it takes three to make any ride successful: me, my horse, and God.