Before I got Oakley, I'd never actually loaded a horse on a trailer myself. I've led horses up to someone who took them onto the trailer, I've seen it done a dozen times, but never done it myself. So, I figured, since he's going to have to go to shows, therefore I'd better learn how to put him on board and get him there safely, in comfort.

The first thing I learned was how not to do it.

Under instruction from his previous owner, we led him to the trailer. I climbed up the slippery ramp; she took a longe line, tied one end to the trailer and held it behind his butt. Then we asked, demanded, pleaded, adjusted, readjusted, moved around, lifted his hoof, pulled, pushed, and begged until he finally decided to get into the two-horse trailer. It took 40 minutes.

The second time, again with both of us doing pretty much the same thing, took 45 minutes. This, apparently, was the normal procedure.

Now I balked.

If this is what it takes to get him on, how in Sam Hill am I going to get him back from wherever I've taken him? I can't enlist the help of anyone else to go through this! In fact, I can pretty much guarantee I'll have to put him on and take him off by myself. Moreover, I've never seen other people have this much fun getting their horses on and off a trailer, so obviously I need to talk to someone.

Fortunately, I know just that someone. Mike Charters, owner of DMC Transport, has been trailering 30 horses a week (that's 1500 a year!) for more than twenty years. He trains two-year olds to get on and off. So the next chance I got, I asked his advice.

Horses, he said, are naturally claustrophobic, so they have qualms about going into small spaces. Furthermore, they do not see a nice, solid black mat; they see a hole in the ground.

So, basically, what I'm asking Oakley to do is go into a small, frightening box over a bottomless pit. No wonder he's somewhat... reluctant.

First, Mike said, scatter a layer of shavings across the floor of the trailer. Not a handful, mind, but a layer. That way, the floor looks solid and familiar. Also, if that rubber mat gets wet it's slick as ice, but the shavings give the horse secure footing under all conditions.

Next, scatter some on the ramp, too, but just a light scattering, enough to let the horse see it's solid, but not too much, otherwise it slides down and interferes with the ramp closing.

Always have a full haynet in there, waiting. The reason they don't balk every time you put them in their stall is because they know they're going to be fed. The haynet keeps them busy while you are driving. You can even show them the haynet being put on the trailer as added incentive.

It's perfectly OK to have a handful of grain or some treat in a bucket entice them to get them on. Eventually you won't need it, but at first -- use it.

Get rid of the divider, unless you're trailering two horses, it's not needed. It opens the space and makes it less frightening. The horse will keep his balance in a larger area better than a small one, because he can step to the side if your driving is not as careful and gentle as it should be. No fast starts or hard stops, and very slowly and gently around any corners. Slow down when approaching any light, which can turn yellow on you. Most cars doing the speed limit can hit the brakes -- you cannot. Imagine yourself trying to stand in there without being able to hang on to anything. Drive so you could stand in the trailer without hanging on, like your horse.

Use trailer-ties with quick-release snaps about an arms-length, long enough for him to move his head around, but not so long that he can catch it on anything, or reach the floor.

The key is to make that small space a really nice comfortable place for them; the most comfortable place around, in fact.

When leading the horse onto the trailer, if he balks, turn away, circle, and try again. While circling, be agitated, flap your arms, but as he turns toward the trailer, quiet down and be calm as possible. This tells him that there is some reason to be agitated, but that it's safer towards the trailer.

And be patient.

Be very, very patient, because it may take a long while. Never rush the horse or force him on board. It will take however long it takes to get him to want to go on the trailer.

So, armed with this advice, the next day, I prepared the trailer, put in a full haynet, took a small bucket with a handful of oats just in front of the ramp, got everything ready, then, by myself, led Oakley towards the trailer, prepared to spend all afternoon, if necessary, to teach him it's OK to get on.

As expected, Oakley balked at the sight of the trailer.

So we walked in a circle; I flapped my arms when he was facing away and became calm and quiet as we turned towards the trailer to make him feel calmer about the trailer and we promptly continued walking towards the ramp, where he stopped again, sniffing at the shavings.

I walked up the ramp and showed him the bucket of oats. He planted his feet firmly at the bottom of the ramp and reached his head as far forward as he could without moving his feet to try and get at the bucket. He even knelt on the ramp, rather than move his feet. After still failing to get his treat, he got up and looked around. I showed him the bucket again and moved it deeper into the trailer. Oakely gave me a look, and then calmly walked right up and in.
While he had his nose in the bucket, I clipped the tie to his halter. Finished with the bucket, he grabbed a mouthful of hay. I walked out the front door, around the back and put the ramp up while he munched at the haynet.

Total elapsed time: 1 minute, 40 seconds.

I left him in there for an hour while I cleaned tack and chatted and let him eat his dinner, then put him in his stall and emptied the rest of his evening feed from the haynet into his stall.

We did this again the next day, which took about a minute, with no hesitation.

Two days later, I loaded him up by myself and I drove to another school for a jumping class and home again. We took a bit longer to load up than the other student with a trailer, but she has it down to a science, I'm still not that organized.

Off-loading, however, was a problem: he hates backing up and, after much coaxing and cajoling, jumps back off the ramp until he's on terra firma. Once he banged his poll on the ceiling. I was not looking forward to that and was going to ask Mike what to do, next chance I got.

However, when we trailered him to the new barn, after 20 minutes of trying to get him to back off, Oakley figured out he can turn around and just walk out, which he did, mashing my shoulder against the stanchion in the process. I had a colourful bruise for three days, but it was a relief to discover. Well, if that's what works, let's do it that way from now on, then.

Except without the getting crushed against the wall part.