Big dog wrote:
That’s one smart horse 🐎 !!!!
It's a combo. An athletic horse who wants to work cows and a great trainer. You can train a cutting horse with a mechanical bull or a flag on pullies across the arena. It's mainly getting their back feet under them so they can pivot and keep up or ahead of the calf. I've seen a horse get down on his knees to cut a calf and I've seen one that was working 'sour' cattle that would slide by between the horse and fence, reach down and bite the calf on the neck and toss him over the fence and out of the arena.
Studs don't like being disrespected by people or animals. They are the alpha male. I've seen three people get chewed up and stomped by the studs, the owers loved teasing and picking on.
I know a few men whose wives weren't taking another beating and shot and killed them too. They were alpha females and Colt made everyone equal big, small, male, or female.
A trainer in Arkansas used Catahoula curs for his turnback men. As far as they were concerned those calves were wild hogs. If Mr. Orell said their names, they moved on the calf and turned the calf. Poetry in motion. He also had a fiberglass mechanical calf his son Luce Dell and I each rode and tried to throw each other off of. Good times. We were about 8 and it was a blast. At that age, my brother and I, were dad's turnback men on foot of course. He wore us out in our early days.
Day-old male dairy calves cost fifty cents each back then and we bottle feed them until they were old enough to train his horse with. My dad had dreams and two boys who were eating him out of house and home. My brother believed him and it took me a few years to believe it too.
He had no problem asking us to do anything, even if it was dangerous. There was only one acceptable answer, yes sir. My brother had a horse fall on him and got kicked in the jaw. I never really got hurt, just exhausted. Dad only invested in tools that fit my hands like shovels, rakes, and post-hole diggers. I even bush-hogged the place we rented, with a push mower. That was about eight acres. Fighting a bully, was like getting a day off, short easy work. They ran out of gas, just as I was warming up.
Now I'm old, worn out, and work for the CINC, for free, because I respect him. That's all the pay I need and I love my work. I could never work for someone I can't respect. I don't know how the left can do it for their leaders. I'd hang my head in total shame.