The Mustang Diaries: Pecos
- maryahcarlin
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
Pecos arrived at our facility the beginning of February. He has come to the facility for a restart: a full reeducation of groundwork and saddle training that begins not with speed or flash but with the patient art of listening and creating a bridge between fear and focus.
Pecos is, in presence, a perfect image of drafty power—broad through the chest, sturdy through the withers, and every bit of 16h. The Devils Garden name carries stories of wind and wildfire, of stubborn landscapes and resilient horses. Pecos embodies those narratives in his own way: a horse sized to move mountains, with the flightiness of a mustang and the wind in his lungs telling stories of smoke and ash. Pecos tires more quickly than a horse due to his airway compromise from his time on the range, and temperature, dust, or excitement can narrow his breathing in ways that alter his gait, his attention, and his willingness to engage. We keep respiration at the center of our plan: shorter sessions with more frequent rests, vigilance about humidity and temperature, and a readiness to pause if his breathing escalates to consistent coughing or he shows excessive fatigue. Our plan begins with the head and the heart: steady, predictable sessions that reward consent, calm behavior, rather than boldness and reactivity. The initial goal is a thorough restart of his groundwork, a foundation on which trust can be laid, and a body taught to carry itself with balance and ease, even when the world gets a little noisy.
A key part of Pecos’s early journey has been desensitization. Desensitizing to the stick and string was our first, most visible hurdle. He needs to understand that our objects and tools can be startling or reassuring, depending on the speed, the angle, the tone, and the reach. With time, the stick and string became extensions of my own, not threats but signals. With each session, Pecos, is spending less and less time worrying about the tools in my hand and instead trying to read and interpret what they're saying to him.
From there, we advanced to yielding, first the hindquarters and then the forequarters. These are not merely tricks; they are quiet acts of partnership. With the hindquarters, Pecos learned to pivot away from pressure, to shift weight with the intent of balancing the body rather than escaping a cue. The forequarters followed, a testament to the way confidence grows from the shoulders outward.
Backups, too, have become a measured, multi-faceted exercise. Pecos now learns to move backward with four methods: steady pressure, marching, tapping the air, and wiggling the lead. Each method serves a unique purpose: steady pressure teaches him to slow his forward impulse and re-allocate his balance; marching keeps him attentive and connected to the ground pulses underfoot; tapping the air introduces the idea that energy can cue motion without contact; and wiggling the lead reinforces the line between chaos and release. The goal is not a dramatic backward step every time, but the ability to respond when needed, with confidence and control rather than fear.
Lateral flexion and lowering the head and neck round out the more nuanced pieces of Pecos’s groundwork. Lateral flexion helps establish the mental connection between the head, the neck, and the hindquarters; it is a training cue that improves balance, reduces stiffness, and invites Pecos to carry himself more evenly. Lowering the head and neck—essentially asking him to soften his line and come into a calmer frame—becomes a visible symbol of trust earned through consistent, respectful handling.
What has surprised me most as Pecos’s restart unfolds is the way trust has grown in small, quiet increments. His size and his rough-edge exterior could easily intimidate a handler who lacks patience; yet Pecos responds to steady leadership, clear signals, and well-timed pressure and release. The goal is simple and ambitious: to give Pecos a life where flight is a choice, not a constant reflex; where confidence is earned through consistency; and where a horse as large and capable as Pecos can stand with grace, a calm, and the quiet assurance that his human partner will meet him, every day, where he is.





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