05/28/2026
Repost with updated video (with audio and 2nd view)
Duke and the Tire
05-26-26
Meet Duke. Percheron/Friesian cross. Big, beautiful, and absolutely convinced the tire I asked him to drag today was probably going to kill him.
Duke came to me with a driving background β trained and working. On paper, he's a "been there, done that" horse. But here's the thing: when I take on a horse I've never personally seen driven, I don't just climb in and see what happens. I go back to the beginning. Every step. In order.
Why? Because I want to find the holes before they find me.
There's a difference between a horse that has been taught to drive and a horse that has been developed as a driving horse. One is a set of learned responses. The other is a horse whose body and mind are genuinely prepared for the job β methodically introduced to every piece of the puzzle until nothing is a surprise.
When I'm doing a full start with a young or green horse, I spend many sessions on each step before moving forward. With a refresher, I move through all the steps in rapid succession β but I still do all of them. The difference is pace, not process. If at any point I feel the horse isn't comfortable, we slow down and repeat until he is.
Today with Duke: I ground drove first. I needed real communication β not just forward. Then I had him drag and step on his traces. A horse who's never felt a strap around his legs or something following him is not ready for shafts, regardless of what his paperwork says.
His traces were too short without extensions, so I added those, attached the singletree, hooked up the tire β with a quick release, because smart beats sorry every time.
He was unsure pulling the tire. Hesitant. That's fine β unsure means he's thinking, processing, trying to figure out what I'm asking. We worked through it quietly.
Here's the thing people don't always want to hear: just because the wheel hasn't fallen off doesn't mean it's on tight. In other words β a horse that has never had a problem may not be a horse without problems. He may just be a loose wheel that hasn't hit a pothole yet.
This is why the steps matter. Not as a formality. Not because I don't trust the horse. But because every step is information. Every step tells me what he knows, what he's comfortable with, and where we need more time.
A horse can go forward, turn, and stop and still not be ready. Has he been driven outside an arena? Has he been introduced to the whip as a communication tool? Is his body conditioned for the actual demands of the work? Has he been exposed to the world before being put between the shafts? And just as importantly β has his owner been taught any of this?
When horses come here for training, owners are welcome to attend every single session. Once things are going safely, the owner gets in the cart with me. We talk through every cue their horse now knows. We go over harness fit and adjustment. We practice putting to and unhitching until it's muscle memory β not guesswork on a day when something's already gone sideways.
The horse gets the same treatment. We build the body and the mind together. We teach confidence β out front, no handler at the head, learning to find and trust the line of communication from the bit. Think of it like walking with a toddler. Take the hand, guide gently, let them find their footing. Don't drag them into the job and hope it holds together.
We ground drive everywhere we plan to eventually drive β roads, trails, past all the things the universe can throw at them β before a horse ever sees the shafts. Hours of it. At minimum, they get their steps in. π
Duke pulled that tire today. He figured it out. And next session, it'll be a little less new.
Because we're not skipping steps here. We're building a horse properly, for safety, and long term harmony between horse and human.