Mustang Maneuvers on the High Desert

Pictures of injured or starving mustangs are disturbing. Every year, many articles talk about the struggle of the mustangs to survive on the outskirts of densely populated areas without obvious food sources during a drought. Living amidst the horses, I often wonder if these are stock photos are used to raise sympathy dollars. The mustangs I share the desert with are fat and sassy most days. The determination and will of a 1500 pound horse is awe inspiring, especially when they are invading a neighborhood at night breaking sprinkler pipes for a drink or ravaging a front yard for a tasty treat.

Not to say they don’t have their share of hardships. It’s true. The most obvious cause of death that I’ve observed is road related. Horses and cars are a terrible combination. It’s usually fatal for all involved and it happens more than you would think. Mustangs are always on the move, along with people. Picture postcard still, somedays they seem not to move at all. But then, I’ll be lucky enough to see them galloping through long empty stretches of BLM (the real one – Bureau of Land Management) acres. Picturesque and fitting, because that land that belongs to all of us as Americans. Public use lands.

Horses are hardy and resilient animals. When the foals are born, they must be ready to travel miles with the herd by the end of their first day of life. When newborn, their little tail are puffs of fluff. Little pointed hooves travel over hot sands and jagged rocks. They huddle close with the herd on cold desert nights. They wade through winter snows, growing up fast . In a very short time, the fluff is replaced by a real tail and their muscles grow strong. There is nothing delicate about a mustang foal. Even less delicate is the rage you can incite from the herd if you try to mess with one. And yet, idiot tourists do.

I’ve seen only a few terribly injured horses since I’ve lived in Nevada. Of course, the stallions are often covered with hairless hoof prints, testimony to territorial fights. They bite and kick each other with ferocity. On hind legs they strike with their front while teeth protrude and their loud screams complete the picture. This can happen anywhere, at any time. In the streets of Virginia City while on my deck, I was witness to one such argument. Violent, it came out of nowhere and made me respect these horses from a distance. The front and rear end, and, the teeth!

Bachelor herds form and roam together. In Virginia City, it was obvious these young stallions were either too young or old to have their own harem. Being horses, and liking company, at times they would hang out together. It was in these groups, often grazing below my suspended deck, on which I would see hunks of hanging flesh, slowly healing from the last major fight. Never anything more than superficial wounds, they looked gruesome, but didn’t prevent the stallions from walking miles while dreaming of their own harems one day. Seemingly docile and domestic, introduce a mare in heat, and the entire situation would change in an instant. The most fit, dominant, and rugged male always got the girl, or two or three of them.

Mustangs eat anything. They eat every waking moment as they plod along searching for food. Standing at the corner of Rabbit Brush Lane and Highway 85 when I run to the store, they’re docile and still. Twenty minutes later, upon my return, they’ve vanished into thin air. The topography allows us to see for miles, but, they disappear without a trace. They have no predators in the desert. Their only adversary is man. As more people escape city entrapment to move to the beauty of the high desert, habitats and the fragile desert landscape suffer. Some would insist the mustangs are an intruder, not truly native. but introduced to the desert way of life hundreds of years ago. There is truth to that, but, they find themselves in a wild state now. They’re as American as you or I, still enjoying their absolute freedom.

Last week, driving along Rabbit Brush Lane, a drama was unfolding. Vehicles lined the side of the road, all with similar markings on the doors reading “Large Animal Rescue Team”. Off to the south side, dwarfed by the tall sage brush and tumbleweeds, a group of eight people formed a human corral. Wearing yellow and orange reflective vests, holding orange boards, while being spaced at least six feet apart, they stood without speaking. I know this, because I stopped to watch, not sure what was happening.

They didn’t move. They didn’t speak. They stood with their 2′ x 3′ boards, horizontally, in front of their bodies. This made them appear larger than they were, still and quiet. Inside the very large human corral they formed was a lone mustang stallion. Chestnut in color, it also stood quietly. Make no mistake, it had every single person identified and under its radar. It chewed nervously while watching with intensely intelligent eyes. It’s all about the eyes with mustangs.

This stationary stand-off went on for minutes until the mustang decided to move away from these folks, just a little. Then, it was obvious. This guy was horrible injured. Not obvious if the injury was to hip or leg, the horse was in grave distress. As he hobbled along, the group took small steps forward, still not talking or making any quick movements.

Determined, the group moved towards a temporary and creative. The goal was to get the mustang into the old, beat up horse trailer, waiting with an open gate. When handling mustangs, the older and more beat up the trailer the better, because, it will surely be that way after transporting 1500 pounds of anger. Metal horse panels came out like a V from back of the trailer, tightly secured and creating a funneled entrance. More metal horse panels formed a small pen with the gates gaping, wide open. There was one way in, and no way out for this guy.

As the group waited, the stallion watched and chewed. Slowly, all of them moved towards the corral and trailer. As this was happening, no ropes were thrown. No taunting or yelling occurred. Only the wind disturbed the silence of the desert as eight men and women physically asked this injured mustang to head toward the trailer and medical help. He seemed to understand the situation. His body language seemed to say, “I really need some help guys, just give me a minute here.”

This was one lucky mustang. Suffering a severe injury, as his obviously was, the result would have been death by dehydration and starvation, as he was in no shape to follow his herd to greener pastures. With endless patience, time went by as the group approached the corral. With one futile escape attempt, he entered the corral, the gates shut, and the wild horse stood calmly, awaiting the next request from the group.

The gang of eight didn’t approach the corral, or even acknowledge that he was trapped. They simply talked quietly a little ways from the corral. They let him settle and think about the situation at bit. He needed a rest, and so did they. Job well done on all parts.

In observing these expert horse men and women, I was impressed by their knowledge, patience, and persistence with this stallion. There will would be done, but on his time. They showed respect and in return, he responded to their wishes. Simple. This procedure couldn’t be hurried along, or carried out in a disrespectful manner. That would have simply resulted in more injury for the stallion and possible the rescue workers.

The outcome for this stallion is unknown. Injuries involving hips and legs are extremely serious in horses. The High Desert Large Animal Rescue Team did just as they have been trained. The stallion has the best chance of recovery with them. That’s what they do best. But even with the best of care, leg and hip injuries are most serious in horses. This team will provide care with the least amount of suffering.

It seems our world could learn a lot from these amazing men and women. So many misunderstanding arise from forced will upon others. A lack of time to calm and think often creates disastrous outcomes in a world moving at warp speed. Sometimes, just standing still, while doing or saying nothing allows everyone time to think and make sensible decisions on their own. Yet another lesson to be learned here in the high desert of Northwestern Nevada.