Post by Elaine on Jan 27, 2013 10:19:35 GMT
westernhorseman.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1166&Itemid=77
"Of course," Ray (Hunt) says, "everything he told me to do I'd never done before. I'd tried everything else. I could do what he told me, but it wasn't easy, because I had to give something I never gave, to get something I never had. It wasn't easy. And I'm trying to help these people today. I tell them, 'You've got to give something you never gave to get something you never had.'"
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Hondo and Tom
In the early 1960s, the horse who "made it necessary" entered Ray's life. The story on the horse, according to the guy who wanted Ray to ride him, is he had bucked him off and run through a fence. He had the potential of being a good horse, the man felt, and he could surely run, seeing as how he was a direct descendent of Seabiscuit, the famous racehorse. Ray agreed to work with the four-year-old gelding named Hondo.
Ray quickly surmised that Hondo did have a lot of potential, and he wound up buying him with the help of a friend for $700. "He was really a good horse, but when you saddled him up in the morning, he would buck," Ray says. "All I knew was to get after him, but then he'd just get worse. I wanted to show him in a hackamore (in working cow-horse classes), but about the time I turned a cow down the fence, I'd come back in the saddle-bronc event, and you can't show a horse in two events at the same time.
All I knew was what the cowboys said - just get a bigger club."
He asked a friend, Bill Dorrance, if he had any ideas about the horse. Bill said his brother Tom was "pretty good with horses," and he'd introduce them to each other at the upcoming Elko County Fair and Stock Horse Show in Elko, Nevada. So, Ray met Tom in Elko, and Tom said he'd stop by Ray's place in California for a visit that fall.
True to his word, Tom arrived and watched Ray lead Hondo into the barn, saddle him and then lead him to a corral. And true to form, Hondo performed as a saddle bronc when Ray stepped back. "Man, he came apart," Ray remembers. "About the second jump he was squallin' and buckin' and Tom said, 'That's the last thing in the world that horse wants to do.' And I thought to myself, 'Tom must be looking the other way.' Then he said, 'Ray, your kids will be riding him.'
"I didn't have a clue where he was coming from, but I believed him. And he wasn't saying those things to be funny. Finally, the horse quit bucking, and Tom got off the fence and just put a lasso around Hondo's neck, and then crawled back on the fence. It took a little time to get that horse to ease up to the fence, but when he did, Tom just reached out and touched him with a toe. The horse left there pretty quick. But soon Tom could get him to the fence, rub a toe against him and reach down and pet him, and that horse accepted him up there on the fence above him. But I had another 15 head to ride that day, so we quit Hondo.
"Next day," Ray continues, "we did the same thing with him, and he got a lot better. 'He likes you, Ray,' Tom said. And I guess he did like me. He would never butt, kick, or strike-but he sure could buck. I remember times we gathered cattle in real thick brush. I'd get off and tie the reins so they wouldn't hang up, and would get on my hands and knees to crawl through that brush. That horse would put his head down and follow me right on through."
Tom had to leave after a few days. Hondo was changing for the better, but still prone to buck violently first thing in the morning. Ray, meanwhile, still needed a solid horse for day-working on the area ranches, and Hondo was his horse.
"Get there early, before the rest of them show up, and just lay your horse down," Tom advised. He showed Ray how to do it.
"That day, we laid him down in a corral filled with soft footing, so there was no danger of him knocking out his teeth or scraping off any hide. And we didn't throw him down, it was a slow process. We got his left front foot up with a rope, and of course he jumped and leaped and tried to set his foot down. The rope went over the saddle horn, and we pulled it toward the left flank and held it there.
"We wanted him to relax and just lay down, but he couldn't relax. He'd get close to going down, then jump out of it. We worked at this again and again, and he'd almost get his knee on the ground, then leap out of it. After about an hour, he tipped over and laid down with his hind end still in the air. When those hindquarters came down, it kind of scared him and he tried to get up. We just pulled the rope on the saddle horn a little, and he put his head back down and laid quietly. We gave the rope some slack for a little relief on his foot as he went down.
"Tom rubbed all over his hind leg, to relax it. It was stiff. He worked with it a little bit, and the leg relaxed. We untied the front leg, then asked Hondo to get up by nudging him with a toe on his neck, in front of the saddle horn. He got up and Tom said, 'Okay, Ray, just put your bridle on him and get on him from above, off the fence. Do what you want to do, but get on and off him with the fence.'
"So I got on him with the fence and rode him around, and he was just like he was when he wasn't trying to buck me off. Tom said, 'When you go somewhere, get there early so they're not waiting on you. Lay him down, then lead him up to something - a fence or fender on the trailer or something - to get on him. Once you ride off, if he starts bucking, just stop him and turn his head around.'"
Ray followed this routine well into the future. Hondo quit bucking, and the day came when Ray no longer had to lay him down or get on and off using a fence or fender. Even his kids could ride Hondo.
To Give Something
"Of course," Ray says, "everything he told me to do I'd never done before. I'd tried everything else. I could do what he told me, but it wasn't easy, because I had to give something I never gave, to get something I never had. It wasn't easy. And I'm trying to help these people today. I tell them, 'You've got to give something you never gave to get something you never had.'"
All the good hands were at the first show Ray entered that spring, and Ray did put on a show, before and during the working cow-horse class. "Before the class, I was trying to lay him down in the brush while everyone else was running their horses past, whipping them over and under and trying to get 'em handy," he recalls. "I know they looked at me and thought, 'What's that farmer trying to do?' Well, this old farmer finally got that horse to lie down, and then we won the class."
Nine months after Tom helped Ray work with Hondo, Ray won the 1961 working cow-horse, hackamore class, at the Cow Palace in San Francisco.
"Of course," Ray (Hunt) says, "everything he told me to do I'd never done before. I'd tried everything else. I could do what he told me, but it wasn't easy, because I had to give something I never gave, to get something I never had. It wasn't easy. And I'm trying to help these people today. I tell them, 'You've got to give something you never gave to get something you never had.'"
*********************************************
Hondo and Tom
In the early 1960s, the horse who "made it necessary" entered Ray's life. The story on the horse, according to the guy who wanted Ray to ride him, is he had bucked him off and run through a fence. He had the potential of being a good horse, the man felt, and he could surely run, seeing as how he was a direct descendent of Seabiscuit, the famous racehorse. Ray agreed to work with the four-year-old gelding named Hondo.
Ray quickly surmised that Hondo did have a lot of potential, and he wound up buying him with the help of a friend for $700. "He was really a good horse, but when you saddled him up in the morning, he would buck," Ray says. "All I knew was to get after him, but then he'd just get worse. I wanted to show him in a hackamore (in working cow-horse classes), but about the time I turned a cow down the fence, I'd come back in the saddle-bronc event, and you can't show a horse in two events at the same time.
All I knew was what the cowboys said - just get a bigger club."
He asked a friend, Bill Dorrance, if he had any ideas about the horse. Bill said his brother Tom was "pretty good with horses," and he'd introduce them to each other at the upcoming Elko County Fair and Stock Horse Show in Elko, Nevada. So, Ray met Tom in Elko, and Tom said he'd stop by Ray's place in California for a visit that fall.
True to his word, Tom arrived and watched Ray lead Hondo into the barn, saddle him and then lead him to a corral. And true to form, Hondo performed as a saddle bronc when Ray stepped back. "Man, he came apart," Ray remembers. "About the second jump he was squallin' and buckin' and Tom said, 'That's the last thing in the world that horse wants to do.' And I thought to myself, 'Tom must be looking the other way.' Then he said, 'Ray, your kids will be riding him.'
"I didn't have a clue where he was coming from, but I believed him. And he wasn't saying those things to be funny. Finally, the horse quit bucking, and Tom got off the fence and just put a lasso around Hondo's neck, and then crawled back on the fence. It took a little time to get that horse to ease up to the fence, but when he did, Tom just reached out and touched him with a toe. The horse left there pretty quick. But soon Tom could get him to the fence, rub a toe against him and reach down and pet him, and that horse accepted him up there on the fence above him. But I had another 15 head to ride that day, so we quit Hondo.
"Next day," Ray continues, "we did the same thing with him, and he got a lot better. 'He likes you, Ray,' Tom said. And I guess he did like me. He would never butt, kick, or strike-but he sure could buck. I remember times we gathered cattle in real thick brush. I'd get off and tie the reins so they wouldn't hang up, and would get on my hands and knees to crawl through that brush. That horse would put his head down and follow me right on through."
Tom had to leave after a few days. Hondo was changing for the better, but still prone to buck violently first thing in the morning. Ray, meanwhile, still needed a solid horse for day-working on the area ranches, and Hondo was his horse.
"Get there early, before the rest of them show up, and just lay your horse down," Tom advised. He showed Ray how to do it.
"That day, we laid him down in a corral filled with soft footing, so there was no danger of him knocking out his teeth or scraping off any hide. And we didn't throw him down, it was a slow process. We got his left front foot up with a rope, and of course he jumped and leaped and tried to set his foot down. The rope went over the saddle horn, and we pulled it toward the left flank and held it there.
"We wanted him to relax and just lay down, but he couldn't relax. He'd get close to going down, then jump out of it. We worked at this again and again, and he'd almost get his knee on the ground, then leap out of it. After about an hour, he tipped over and laid down with his hind end still in the air. When those hindquarters came down, it kind of scared him and he tried to get up. We just pulled the rope on the saddle horn a little, and he put his head back down and laid quietly. We gave the rope some slack for a little relief on his foot as he went down.
"Tom rubbed all over his hind leg, to relax it. It was stiff. He worked with it a little bit, and the leg relaxed. We untied the front leg, then asked Hondo to get up by nudging him with a toe on his neck, in front of the saddle horn. He got up and Tom said, 'Okay, Ray, just put your bridle on him and get on him from above, off the fence. Do what you want to do, but get on and off him with the fence.'
"So I got on him with the fence and rode him around, and he was just like he was when he wasn't trying to buck me off. Tom said, 'When you go somewhere, get there early so they're not waiting on you. Lay him down, then lead him up to something - a fence or fender on the trailer or something - to get on him. Once you ride off, if he starts bucking, just stop him and turn his head around.'"
Ray followed this routine well into the future. Hondo quit bucking, and the day came when Ray no longer had to lay him down or get on and off using a fence or fender. Even his kids could ride Hondo.
To Give Something
"Of course," Ray says, "everything he told me to do I'd never done before. I'd tried everything else. I could do what he told me, but it wasn't easy, because I had to give something I never gave, to get something I never had. It wasn't easy. And I'm trying to help these people today. I tell them, 'You've got to give something you never gave to get something you never had.'"
All the good hands were at the first show Ray entered that spring, and Ray did put on a show, before and during the working cow-horse class. "Before the class, I was trying to lay him down in the brush while everyone else was running their horses past, whipping them over and under and trying to get 'em handy," he recalls. "I know they looked at me and thought, 'What's that farmer trying to do?' Well, this old farmer finally got that horse to lie down, and then we won the class."
Nine months after Tom helped Ray work with Hondo, Ray won the 1961 working cow-horse, hackamore class, at the Cow Palace in San Francisco.