My wife hates it when I equate everything in life that happens to me to the equine world. I can't help it; horses and horsemen are great teachers and they don't even try to be.
I got into the horse industry after my interest in rodeo painfully wained out. I was starting to realize that I was never going to make much of a bull rider. I put a lot of money into rodeo and never got a dime out of it. Somewhere out there are a group of age 50-something, ex-bullriders that have a buckle, saddle or trailer that my entry fees helped pay for. Interesting when you bring it in to perspective.
I started watching the calf ropers and team ropers and think to myself, "How do they ride and swing a rope at the same time?"It really intrigued me and thus, the first steps of my career path began the slow meandering path to where I am now. I started working for an Arabian horse owner cleaning stalls and turning out horses in their runs, but never got a chance to ride. I eventually applied to an Arabian farm in Tucson, AZ and moved there in 1983 or 84. I learned a lot of basic horsemanship skills and was exposed to cutting horses. The trainer I worked for, Joe Staheli, taught me one very important perspective. "If you're going to do it, do it right."was what he always said to us. Pretty simple, but for a young kid like me at the time, it had a lasting effect. I stayed in Arizona about a year and then left for Oklahoma to work for what was going to become the hardest and the best person I ever worked for.
Joe Heim was one of a group of 4 or 5 of the best cutting horse trainers at the time. He had just come off a record year by winning about a jillion dollars in about 9 months with Docs Okie Quixote. I wanted to learn more about cutters and I picked up a copy of the Cuttin Hoss Chatter, the industry monthly periodical, and started calling trainers. I was so green and naive to who I was calling (Buster Welch, Tom Lyons and Leon Harrell to name a few) and what I was asking for (a riding job) that I just picked up the phone and let my fingers do the walking. Joe told me to come on up to Thackerville, OK and I packed my truck and drove up the next day. I thought I had the job, but Joe wanted to watch me for a few days before he committed to anything. After about two days he asked me if I was staying or not. I was a little caught off guard at first. Shoot, I thought if he asked me to come all the way up to Oklahoma, he was giving me a job. He told me he would pay $600.00/month. I about wet myself. In Arizona I was making $300/month and working for Joe was a whole lot better than my old job. At least I thought so.
Joe was a one-dimensional person. By this I mean that he did one thing, train cutting horses, and he did it very well. His life revolved around the horse and he seemed to have little interest in anything else. I started off doing a good job for him in my opinion. I did what he told me to do and did it with a smile on my face. Hell, I was livin' the life. Riding horses and gettin' paid for it. It don't get no better. Even with all the good times and perceived glamour of my new lifestyle, I still would get a little frustrated from time to time. The other people I worked with had sat on quite a few more horses than I had. More like a hell of a lot more horses. I didn't know as much as they did and I didn't want anyone to realize this. I would make mistakes and Joe would let me know in his special way. I felt about two foot tall at times and wanted to dig me a hole and hide. I would try to explain to Joe why I had done what I did and he wouldn't have any part of it. He would say to me,"Tim. Just do what I say!" I would sull up and ride away like a whupped puppy dog. I would ask my roommate Rick Edney (who has turned out to make a damn good hand in his own right) what I was doing wrong and he would say, "That's the way Joe is and he ain't changin'. Just do what he tells you to do." Rick had worked for Joe for several years in California and in Texas. He came back to work for Joe because as he put it, "I thought I knew all I needed to know. Found out I was way wrong."
Finally, I think Joe had it up to here with me and my "attitude". I was hanging my head, feeling sorry for myself and Joe rode up next to me. "Tim, you're going to have to get a thicker skin if you want to stay in this business." he quietly told me. "When I ask you to do something, don't argue with me. Just do it."was all he had to say to me. He could have made millions if he had called up Phil Knight and told him to use that line in his Nike ads. I felt a real kinship with Joe at that moment, but that didn't last long because about 10 minutes later the SOB yelled at me, "Move that damn cow now!" Talk about the needle being scratched across a record. Seriously, I think I changed from that moment on. From that point forward to this day, when my superiors tell me to do something, I do it. Maybe I would have made a good career military man.
My new attitude blew up in my face a short time after my conversation with Joe. We had about 20 or so mares in a pasture across the highway from the main stable and arena area. One of the guys I worked with told me to drive over with one of our workers and take down the "wing" that was in the pasture. I didn't want Dan to know that I was not totally sure what a wing was, so I guessed at it and we had taken down about 100 feet of fence by the time he came over to inspect my work. He ranted and raved and called me all the names in the book that a God-fearing cowboy could (Dan was very holy) and sent me home. You guessed it, I sulled up and wouldn't even look him in the eye for a whole day. He came by my trailer that evening and apologized for yelling at me. I think he might have had the same "thick skin" conversation with Joe, because he literally said it verbatim back to me.
Joe would try to show me that I needed to think like a calf. He would say that every calf, animal or human for that matter, has their own bubble around them. Some bubbles are bigger than others. You never want to crowd them too much, because you can cause their bubble to burst. Pretty heady stuff, huh. I apply that now to my business. You need to figure out very quickly in the business of sales, how much you can press people. Push too hard and their bubble will burst. Don't press enough and they will float away. Training a horse uses the same theories. You want to challenge them and reward them for their efforts, just like you treat people. Or should treat people.
Sometimes while working for Joe, I never really knew where I sat with him. He had a very dry sense of humor and was actually quite the practical joker. I was walking through the barn one day when Joe hollered that he had something for me. He pulled a new shirt out of a bag and told me that his wife Joice had bought it for me. I thanked him and asked him to also thank Joice. I had walked a few steps when Joe called out to me,"Hey. Are you messin' around with my wife?" Of course the thought had never even crossed my mind, but he had a serious look on his face and I thought to myself "Crap. He's really serious." I gulped and said "No! Why would you think that?" Joe just stared at me and turned away and walked across the paddock area and back to his house. I swear I heard him snickering. The SOB. Funny, the one thing I didn't learn from Joe was his sense of humor.
I eventually quit working for Joe and went back to college. I finally figured out that not only could I not ride bulls, but I was not going to make much of a horse trainer. I wanted to make a living with horses still, but I knew it would be with both feet planted on the ground. Mare physiology and reproductive behavior further instilled my current theory that everything that happens to you in life, goes back to horses and livestock. I learned to judge where on a horses leg they were injured by how they carried the leg. Same thing with people. Pretty useless when you come to think about it, but I still like to drive my wife Susie bonkers with the phrase, "Horses do that too" or "I remember the time when this horse tore up his leg."
I haven't sat on a horse since 1992, but I still hang on to the past a much as I can. I only recently sold my saddle that I have owned since I was in college. I still have my bull rope and gear bag. You never know when you'll need to ride a bull. One thing for sure is that when I talk with that customer next week about their need for buying Vetericyn instead of iodine spray, I'll make sure I don't press too hard. It's all about the bubble.
