A tribute to Manny (Royale
Candyman - Oct. 1987 to May 2007)
In May 2007 my life was turned upside
down.
Sadly, my very special horse Manny, went to horse heaven after a long
period of illness which I suspect was a re-occurance of cancer.
He came back to full health after colic surgery in July as you can
see by this photo taken in November 2006 . But he started to decline
again in February 2007 and although his spirit battled on, his body
failed him.
I was there when Manny was born in 1987, and with him when he took
his last breath on May 19th, 2007.
As part of my grieving I found it helpful to recall the good times
we had together. They led to all the wonderful things he taught me
which I wanted to share so you can recognise those special moments
on your horsemanship journey too.
Horse are our greatest teachers when we take the time to form a true
partnership and listen to what they have to say.
Manny
Taught Me...
Manny was my greatest
teacher.
First he taught me that I had a good eye for selecting his dam, Candyaan,
as an ideal mare to breed to his sire, Mandala Royale. Manny was their
first foal and they went on to produce 9 full siblings, all lovely
7/8th Arabian horses.
As a foal he taught me
young horses need good handling to be able to cope
with the human/domestic environment.
He showed me how
sensitive and aware horses are by not allowing himself to
be caught when I wore gloves in the paddock for the first few times.
He showed me how
patient horses can be when taught not to fight pressure by
standing for hours caught in wire/blackberries/hay net waiting for
me to come and free him.
He showed me I had to
improve my horsemanship skills by turning into a frustrating
four year old who jigged and jogged and got uptight about being ridden.
That started my journey with natural horsemanship.
He taught me an endurance
horse first needs a good solid education to be controllable on endurance
rides amongst other horses.
Manny was my consoling friend when I sat under a tree in his pasture,
upset and feeling scared during difficult times in my first marriage.
He would come and ‘hold’ onto me ever so gently with his
lips, making me laugh and giving me comfort.
He taught me to
be gentle with such a sensitive horse – I had to be
smarter and braver for him, not harder on him. He taught me most horses
are just scared and sensitivity can be mistaken for running away.
He taught me a
lot about impulsion and how we cause the horse to be impulsive
by being that way ourselves.
I learned to be lighter
with my requests and signals, to get the ultimate lightness with our
communication – by thought alone. Less is more.
I learned to use my energy and focus after my thoughts
to communicate what I wanted.
He taught me to
listen to my intuition and to believe in what I heard. He
was able to tell me one night I’d left the hose going in a water
trough while his was dry.
I’m glad I listened to my feelings about going to check on the
horses in the morning instead of later in the day, when I found him
lying on the ground with all 4 legs caught up in the fence after rolling
too close to it.
I now know to go check on the horses in the night if I hear unusual
activity such as when galloping alerted me to a newborn foal rejected
by his mother and found his way into the paddock with all the riding
horses and the only other mare and foal.
He taught me that
love is unconditional when you give it freely, no matter
what happens between you.
He taught me that
frustration gets me nowhere – it's better to walk away
from it and come back when I’m feeling calmer and thinking again.
He showed me a horse will
try so hard to please, even when we make mistakes, always forgiving
us but never forgetting.
He taught me that
horses need lots of variation, stimulation and not much repetition.
Going over and over something that he knew was boring resulted in
ears back and a sour expression.
He taught me horses will
offer new movements they have recently learned in response to whatever
you ask them to do, because they just wanted to please.
He taught me to
look at other methods like clicker training when a horse
needs more incentive or to overcome great fears.
He taught me to
respect pair bonds – he was best friends with Lucky
from one year old and they were never separated for more than a few
hours.
No matter how much educating I did to ‘wean’ him away
from Lucky, he was never happy unless they could live together. Lucky
was leader and Manny was always second in the herd order.
He showed me that horses hate confinement and get
stressed by travel, even when they are used to it.
He taught me that the
bond between a horse and his trusted human can be as strong as that
between two horses. If I took him to an event alone, he called and
fretted for me if I went out of sight.
He taught me that with
diligent nursing and research into medical options, a horse can survive
major colic surgery and return to ultimate health.
He taught me never
to neglect a regular worming routine – he would always
develop a cough when overdue for a wormer.
I
learned from him that every horse is an individual
and must be treated and educated accordingly. Manny had a cheeky personality,
smart enough to get into the feed shed and feed bins and to open gates.
He taught me that a horse
needs a much higher level of education and trust than the level at
which you expect them to perform under pressure.
He showed me that not
all horses will enjoy or tolerate physical collection and show or
dressage competition. Horses for courses and courses for horses.
Manny loved to trail ride, chase cows, do obstacle courses, jump a
little and play at liberty.
He taught me that
some horses don’t enjoy being used to promote our ego
or our knowledge – he hated the stress of Agfest after the first
time there in 1996 and showed more stress at each Agfest after that
until I ‘retired’ him from going there in 2005. That lesson
took me 9 years to learn! Manny taught me that
all horses are special in their own unique way.
Manny Memories...
Van Morrison songs bring back memories,
Memories of when we danced together at Agfest.
Your lightness, willingness and try,
Wanting to be in harmony, with energy,
Like the thunder and lightening that was in the sky
- the night you left this earth.
It was a spectacular, un-seasonal storm, light
flickering in the distance
And thunder rumbling around the hills,
Nothing scary, just the feeling of a greater energy
That would transport your spirit to the heavens,
Where you can be a special horse angel.
The connection we had was through the mind,
in the end so refined.
I miss all the things we could do together,
The lightest moves at the slightest suggestions,
Sideways, backwards, up on the pedestal, shaking hands, spinning,
Turning, stopping with nothing, flexing, canter departs,
It all felt so good and looked so spectacular.
You made me look like a star, but it was all
your hard work,
That trained me to do the right things, to back off, use light phases,
use thought first,
Use rhythm, use focus, have great timing - you taught me well.
But it was your try, your consistent softness, your character,
The way you held my finger in your lips when you wanted to show me
love..
All those memories bring a flood of tears when I realise
I’ll never feel those things with you in the physical sense
again.
I know you’re with me when I’m teaching
other horses.
That knowing has made me far more considerate, not in so much of a
hurry,
Lighter and softer with all the horses I touch.
They all need the sensitivity I gave you, and that you demanded.
But none will replace you – or that mind connection we had.
I could hear everything you said – I just didn’t realise
it at the time.
Mr Manny, I miss you so much.
I’m sorry I put you through such a slow death,
I t was so hard to let go of such a special being.
Please forgive me.
I know you have.
Yours gratefully, Cynthia.
Sign
up for my
free monthly newsletter featuring the latest info on horse care, nutrition,
horsemanship, barefoot, bitless and new products.
Click Here Now
Privacy
Note: Your email address will not be used for anything other than the
service you subscribe to.
Disclaimer:
The information contained within this website is soley the expressed views
and opinions of the author, unless otherwise stated, and the author accepts
no responsability for the way this information is used by viewers. The
information is provided to help PREVENT problems, not to replace veterinary
advice.
Contact:
Cynthia
Cooper -
Natural Horse World
46
Wattle Lea Lane, Golden Valley. Tasmania, 7304. Australia.