Millions of years of evolution have programmed colts so that after a carefree few growing-up years, they're equipped to take charge of a mob of mares and foals. Yep, a man's got to guard and protect his family. But humans have the power take you away from the mob, and it's rotten being separated from your friends and have to depend on those pasty, weedy creatures to feed you. That's all bad enough, but then they put things on your head, tie you up, lock you in little rooms, put things on your back, and...even nastier...climb on you. But the WORST thing (and it gives me the shudders to even THINK about it) is that they have a habit of making us geldings so we'll be quiet and docile! No sort of life for a real man. Give me the bush any day!"

This line of horse-thought explains why a little paint foal...at the tender age of two days...attacked his breeder with tooth and hoof. He wasn't wise enough yet to know that if a human attacked him back, he would have been in trouble big-time. The little foal had a fantastic time growing up with his mates. He galloped, he bucked, he kicked and gave his mum an occasional nip, particularly when she didn't open the milk bar. You don't want the other guys seeing you being pushed around by your mother!

One day the little paint foal took on something too big for him and cut his head badly. It bled and it bled, so much that the humans had to come to the rescue. The first part of the process...going into a big box with his mum...was OK and it really smelled quite nice in there. Trouble was, there were more humans, ones who made strange cooing noises and tried to touch him. One smelled really funny...big danger here! The little colt did what he knew he must...look after his mum and fight that stinky creature!
Two hours later he got so tired he didn't remember the injection needle or anything about the awful gash on his head being sewn up. What he did remember was that his legs felt wobbly for a while. He stayed in the box with his mother and got lots of milk. She didn't even bite him. But he had learned that humans were never to be trusted, even though they put nice smelling things in buckets and gave it to his mother to eat. He tried a nibble himself and found it wasn't too bad.

The time came for the paint colt to be taken away from his mother and join other weanlings. The first night was awful; she...the source of his security...was gone and the other kids weren't much chop. After a while he learned that if he showed his teeth and turned his rump and kicked out hard, he was fine. One day he was herded into a yard with the rest and while he was standing there wondering how the humans had tricked him into this, something was put on his head. He kicked up a real fuss. He'd show them! He fought hard and long but in the end decided if he accepted what they were doing to him, they would stop. They did but he was not going to let it happen ever ever again. He noted that some of his paddock mates let those humans touch them all the time. But he was left alone for the moment and liked it that way. He had his independence and was going to keep it.

One day a new human turned up in the paddock and looked at him. He stood still for ages just looking and looking and looking. There was something different about this dude. After a while the colt heard a subtle clicking noise coming from the man and couldn't resist investigating. The colt approached ever so slowly, his neck stretched out, primed and ready to resort to the old teeth and heels routine if it became necessary to sort this character out. The dude still didn't move and the colt sniffed him cautiously. There was something different. When he sniffed the man again the colt decided that this particular human did not spell danger, but then the fellow did something really strange. He turned his back on the colt and walked away without trying to touch him! He made no sound. The colt was puzzled and intrigued, so followed this unusual human for a few paces. But this could be another trap he decided, so he dropped his head and ate grass instead.

One day the colt was silly enough to get trapped in a yard again. Something was put on his head and the next thing he knew lots of human beings were pulling, pushing and shoving him inside one of those noisy contraptions that he had seen moving faster than any horse could gallop! It was terrifying because it was dark inside and while he could hear and smell other horses, he couldn't see them. The contraption (a large horse transport) rocked and rolled its way along the Australian roads for days. The colt couldn't sleep and he wouldn't eat and only when he felt really awful would he drink.

He had been bought by David Simons, a skilled horse trainer and world-leading exponent of the John Lyon method of horsemanship. The trip was from Queensland to David's Costalot Park right down the bottom of Victoria. Apart from the terror of being trucked the for the first time, the truck driver made a mistake and unloaded him in the wrong place. He was lost! Things turned out okay though, because David and his wife Sandi had set in search of Bandit. He was at a place called Pyramid Hill where the person who owned the property was scratching his head and wondering about the paint colt in his paddock!

Bandit finally arrived where he was supposed to and met the other horses including David's training horse, Gambler. Gambler goes to all the clinics and John Lyon method demonstrations with David and is the horse that Bandit...although he doesnÕt know it yet...will replace one day. Gambler will be a hard act to follow because he is tops at his job. What David had realised from his inspection of Bandit in Queensland is that the horse was clever, and a clever horse wants to learn. David has spent much of his life working with brumbies in the Northern Territory, and he really knows how a horse thinks. It took the colt quite a while to realise David was pretty hard to outsmart.

David and Sandy gave Bandit his official name, which is Bodacious Bandit. The dictionary definition of 'bodacious' is "remarkable, outstanding". The 'bandit' part comes from the fact that the colt's face markings make him look for all the world like a masked bandit! Costalot Park was a pretty cool place for a young fella. There were humans, trucks, kids and an old cattle dog called Jack who didn't look as though he should be messed with. David and Jack were great mates and had done lots of things in the Northern Territory and on the Rodeo circuit together.

David had Bandit thinking hard. He was not like other humans. He never yelled, pushed or shoved. He was different. No matter how Bandit tried, (and he tried a lot!) he could not beat David, who would not give up, not go away and took no notice when Bandit turned his rump and offered to show him the bottom of his hooves. He was just as unimpressed by bared teeth and flaring nostrils. But once he gave the matter some thought, it dawned on the colt that David had done nothing to hurt him. He only made soft noises, gave him lots of pats, didn't pull on his head, twist his ear or upper lip, crack a whip or give him any frights. He was one pretty strange dude.

But David was not going to get his own way EVERY time. There was the day of the first halter lesson. Bandit was put in a round yard, which he had got to know pretty well. It was better than a stable because he could see the outside world. David then put a big bit of cloth around the back of the colt's head. Bandit felt this was different because when David applied pressure it didn't hurt. But David had a rope and there was no way he was putting up with that! Round and round the yard he went, sometimes bucking, sometimes standing on his back legs. Bandit was not at all frightened, he just had to show David he was a horse who wasn't going to be tied down. After a while it dawned on him he wasn't being tied down and that all David was doing was putting gentle pressure on his head. Soon it became kind of fun to respond to the pressure on the rope. It was pretty easy stuff, after all! Bandit started to quite enjoy training, so he's come a long way from those first lessons. David is right about an intelligent horse enjoying learning! Training also meant that the colt spent lots of time seeing what was going on outside...after all a bloke's got to keep an eye on things.



© David & Sandi Simons. Photos © Di Gatehouse.