The Mustang Diaries: Axl Regains Some Freedom

A large step for Axl yesterday as he went out to pasture for the first time. Being a wild stallion for 10 years and only being rounded up by the BLM almost 1 year ago, this felt like watching him discover that little piece of himself that has been missing since the roundup. For 10 years, the world kept moving without asking him for anything back, and then, in the span of a few months, the world asked him to be patient and to learn again how to listen with more than just his ears.

Since we got him from holding in June, I've been studying Axl. We have never had a horse here that was wild for so long before domestication, and it is obvious in his body language and how he carries himself that separates him from all of the others. He is calm and so thoroughly watchful of everything going on around him. From the farm equipment, to the chickens, to me working with other horses, Axl is constantly observing. He is not explosive when I get in his space; rather, he backs away slowly, never turning to run. Careful to keep his eyes on me, not to miss a single detail, as if his survival depended on it... as it once did out on the range.

It felt almost cruel to keep him in the small gentling corrals while we worked with him to introduce human interaction and touch. I could see in his eyes the craving and sorrowful longing for a life that he could no longer live. But yesterday, after months of preparation, I felt like it was time for him to get a breath of that freedom back.

I started the day out doing some groundwork with Axl and re-visiting some familiar leading exercises. I wanted to be sure that once we left the confines of the training arena that he would trust and follow me down into the pasture. There are no fences between the arena and the pasture, and that short walk feels like endless miles for a horse who hasn't been outside the panel walls. It was almost as if Axl knew what we were about to do, and he followed me with confidence, not balking at a single thing as we left the arena. We even stopped halfway down to the pasture so he could eat some grass. He lit up like the sun as soon as he put his head down and pulled the first bite of green grass up. He relaxed his shoulders and let out a big sigh while we stood there for a few minutes, letting him graze. Likely his first time grazing in over a year, as the BLM feeds only, and so do we while they are in the gentling corrals.

Finally, we made the push the rest of the way down into the pasture, where he discovered electricity and that the fence was not to be messed with. Then I slid the halter off and ushered him out to discover this new world. In the end, the moment is simple, almost ordinary, and that is its deepest grace. Axl stands, head lowered, grazing in the sun. The wild stallion who roamed the range is still there, a flicker in his eyes and a strength in his stance, but now there is a patient, careful kindness too—present in the pasture, in the grass, and in the quiet that follows a small bit of green.

This is not the end of a journey but a turning toward one: a future where a wild heart can find rest in a shared field, where a once-feared distance can become a trusted closeness, one bite at a time.

Pictures of Axl on the White Mountain range

Photography credit: Pat Doak