Well, we finally got to see (and touch) our horses.
Ida and her boyfriend had gathered them. The horses had wandered down into one of the sets of corrals Sunday to lick a salt lick, which made rounding them up somewhat easier. Ranger got backed into a stall, and realized he was caught. All of the others would just as soon go for a trailer ride, so the spring roundup was something of a non-event. Ida's boyfriend did question Ranger's training ("Are you SURE this guy is broke?") as it took a little while to get him into the trailer...
They took them and transported them to one of the fields they "hay" during the summer. So Monday we got to catch and de-burr and de-tick them.
"GunDiva" and I cut Jesse, Washoe, Estes and Eli from the rest of the herd, had them deburred, tick oiled and released in about fifteen minutes. Ranger took an HOUR and fifteen minutes. Dork. He has never much cared for the smell of the citronella based tick oil, and I think when he smelled it on the others, he made his decision.
"No way, Bill".
The pasture they were on was only about twenty or so acres, but damn. I mean DAMN. That horse had been running free for months with NO human contact, and Ranger was back to "mustang mode". Run away, stop and stare, SNORT, run away again.
Pressure and release does not work very well with Ranger. When you stop advancing he says
"Good, now just leave me alone"
and when you retreat, he says
"Even better. Just keep going. Write if you get work."
The best way to catch this guy is just to keep after him till he gets tired. It can take a heck of a long time to tire out a horse. GunDiva and I spent our time walking to him, halter in hand, and he would run away from us to the other side of the herd. Mostly he ran to the left, around the herd. I commented to GunDiva that he must have some Off Track Thoroughbred in him, as he was "running the race track". Realistically, as a fourteen hand Roman nosed grulla from Nevada, his ancestors were more likely to have played the slots than to have run on a track.
By the time he was done with his run, he was dripping rivers of sweat, and breathing a little harder than he had been when we started. Me too. He stood nicely while I dropped the rope over his neck, and he was caught. We led him back to the fence to the grooming stuff. Tick oiled, deburred and done. Five minutes, tops.