How to Saddle a Horse
The author and Fatima about twenty years after this was written.
How to Saddle a Horse
Before saddling the horse, you must first catch it. A little grain in a coffee can helps, but if you are good friends with your horse, as I was, it is not necessary. I hiked out to the field where my mare was boarded, stumbling on the big clods of dirt under my cowboy boots. When I reached the gate, I called “Fatima!” at the top of my lungs. She lifted her head from the lush, early summer grass, her jaw in motion, her ears pointed at me, and began walking in my direction. When she arrived at the gate, I circled her neck with the leadrope, then lifted the halter around her face and behind her ears, buckling it at her cheek. I pulled the gate toward us, pushing her out while keeping the other horses, who had followed my mare in the hopes that I came bearing gifts for all, from escaping.
The gate safely latched behind us, I placed my right hand on Fatima’s withers, grasped a handful of her wiry black mane in my left, and kicking my right leg over, I launched myself up to her bare back. I had learned to mount this way, Indian style we called it, when I was a kid, as I have never felt the urgent need to saddle my trusty steeds for romps around the farm. My best friend at the time, a fleabitten gray Arab mare named Subiah, with fur as soft as a rabbit and the biggest, calmest, loveliest eyes I’ve ever encountered, had so patiently put up with my slamming into her side repeatedly until I got the hang of it. Once you know how to do it, you never forget and always have a shortcut onto the back of a horse or into the back of a truck.
Fatima and I rolled lazily toward the barn, her tail swishing at the occasional fly and her ears at half-mast. My hips swayed in time with hers, my seat planted firmly on her back and feet pointed at the ground, legs relaxed. No hurries, no worries. Just the sunlight warming us, the buzz of insects surrounding us, the smell of hay drying in the sun, a train in the distance. When we reached the shade of the barn, the smell of manure, hay, and dirt washed over me. Fatima’s gorgeous gelding friend greeted her with a nicker, and she snorted in response. I slid off of Fatima’s back and we plodded toward the hitching rail, the clippety-clop of her hooves on the concrete floor echoing through the large, mostly empty hay barn. I tied her to the rail and rubbed her face right in the middle of the white star on her forehead, where I know she loves it. I pressed my cheek to hers, then kissed her muzzle, inhaling horse. Her head dropped and her eyelids drooped. I patted her shoulder and walked to the tack room, filling my arms and hands with her bridle and the brush caddy.
Before saddling a horse, it is important to first groom it. The amount of grooming necessary will depend on the time of year, amount of hair being shed, and amount of mud present. Grooming your horse before riding not only creates a bond between you and your horse, but it also ensures that there will be no burrs, twigs or chunks of dirt caught under the saddle or the cinch, which could cause discomfort for your four-legged friend. I brushed Fatima carefully, removing the last of her winter coat with the shedding blade, then flicking the dust out of her brilliant reddish brown coat with the soft brush. Then I pulled up her strong black hooves one by one and picked out rocks and debris with the hoof-pick.
The grooming done, I walked back into the track room and came back out with my saddle, and saddle blanket. The saddle blanket went on first, up higher on her withers than the saddle would actually sit. I made sure the far side stirrup was hung up on the saddle horn and the cinch crossed across the top of the saddle, so that nothing would hit her opposite side as I set the saddle on her back. Then I slid the saddle and blanket back a little, into the appropriate spot, and ducked under her neck to get to her other side. I pulled down the cinch, ensuring that the leather strap it attached to was hanging straight down, then pulled the stirrup off of the horn and walked back to the other side. Fatima watched me with her ears as I hooked the stirrup on the near side over the saddle horn and reached under her belly to grab the cinch, running the leather holding strap through the metal ring, down to the cinch, back up through the ring, around to the left, across the front of the ring to the right, then back down the middle, pulling to tighten as I went, checking to make sure I could fit a couple fingers under the cinch at her belly.
Once the saddle is on, the next step is to put on the bridle. When you remove the halter from the horse’s head, you must immediately buckle it around her neck, just in case she gets any ideas about playing jokes on you or is suddenly frightened by an unexpected occurrence and takes off with just a saddle on its back. I do this in public because Fatima can be high strung, but since we are at home and she isn’t likely to freak out about anything, I simply unbuckled the halter and let it drop. My right arm over her neck, I pulled the top of the bridle toward her ears and placed the bit between her lips. This bit is a particularly humane one, a thick, double jointed eggbutt snaffle that I got just for her, as she had been throwing her nose into the air when I put pressure on the reins, and I deduced that the bit I’d been using had been too long and had smacked the roof of her mouth.
Fatima’s mouth did not open for the bit. She looked at me lazily, clamping her teeth together. “What, princess, you don’t wanna go for a ride? Open up!” I talked to her as I slid my finger against the crease of her lips. She opened her mouth and I pulled the bit into place, then pulled the headstall over her ears, buckling the soft leather loosely against her throat. I pulled the reins over her head, resting them around her neck. “Come on, then. Let’s go.” Fatima followed me without further prompting as I walked toward the arena, opened the gate, and entered. I circled her around me a few times, then hooked the stirrup over the saddle horn and tightened the cinch a good 3 more inches. Now, we were ready to ride.