Gentle Love: Taming Horses With Patience

Growing up in Finland, Outi Denny dreamed of riding and covered her bedroom walls with pictures of horses clipped from magazines. But as one of seven children, that was as close to horses as Denny figured she’d ever get. She never imagined one day she’d be their saving grace.

Denny came to the United States in 1984, and shortly after married a man who had been raised around horses. When the couple’s children came along, Denny set out to find a proper horse for the family.

“I looked all over for a calm and responsive horse,” says Denny, who lives in Elkton, Md. (pop. 11,893). “I couldn’t find anything, and certainly nothing that was affordable. But it got me interested in their psychology.”

Captivated by that psychology, she set her sights on a horse that no one else wanted, a black thoroughbred she named Mousti.

“She’d been mistreated and never trained. The only human handling she’d ever known was negative,” Denny says. “She kicked and bit, and it took me two months before I could even touch her hind legs. She’d even shiver when I brushed her. The experience was quite a challenge. I had no horse background at all.”

After tucking a few training seminars under her belt and buying an instruction manual, Denny set out on the daunting task of training a green (never ridden) horse.

Every day, Denny took 10 steps toward the horse and 10 steps back, 9 steps toward and 9 steps back. She did this 100 times—not 40 or 50 times, but 100 times exactly.

“I know, because I counted out loud,” laughs Denny. “It’s a method of advance and retreat that is very important. I got closer every time. I counted to remind myself to take my time and do it right. The horse doesn’t have any calendar or schedule, and my only goal was to be able to touch her hind legs.”

Mousti came into Denny’s life three years ago. Today, it’s hard to believe the sleek, beautiful, attentive horse was ever unwanted.

“She’s wonderful. Today, we ride her, and she’s fine. She still has her fears, but she’s come a long way,” Denny says proudly. “I don’t regret one thing about training her. As a matter of fact, the experience encouraged me.”

She went on to train a neglected pony, also with a “don’t touch me” personality, eventually finding it a home at Freedom Hills Therapeutic Riding Program, a ranch offering free riding to the physically and emotionally challenged of all ages.

Last year when fires tore through Nevada’s plains, hundreds of wild mustangs were left homeless. Denny was one of many contacted by the federal Bureau of Land Management for help finding homes for the horses. On a chilly September morning, the family traveled to Harrington, Del., to bid on the mustangs the bureau had rescued.

Denny’s second choice came up for bid first—a rich, reddish-brown male with thoughtful eyes and tasseled mane.

“He looked like he was on the bottom of the pecking order,” says Denny. “He’s built for survival, strength, and stamina. He moves beautifully.” Denny bid $125, and no one bid against her.

It didn’t take long to discover his fears focused around his neck. She named him Wild Fire and took him home.

Every day, she walks, counts, and moves closer. Every day she tells him what a good and pretty boy he is. Every day she makes progress.

“Outi is very committed to making a good life for Wild Fire,” says Nina Brady, who holds a degree in animal husbandry from the University of Delaware, has 10 years of riding experience, and assists Denny with training. “She’s good at reminding herself not to get frustrated.”

Every day in the bitter cold or scorching heat, Denny is by Wild Fire’s side.

“All it takes to give these horses a chance at life is hay, time, patience, and discipline. For me, the reward will come when he’ll stand still and let me touch him,” Denny says. “Until then, I’m happy with the small rewards.”

Maryland writer Tracy Leinberger-Leonardi is a frequent contributor to American Profile.

Share This Story With Others:

 

Discuss this Article