Now, he travels throughout
the United States to various ranches and county fairs, demonstrating his
horse training prowess.
His method is not exactly “whispering.” He makes use of ropes and flags
on metal sticks and his own well-trained mount (whom he’s taught to do a
nifty little cross-step dance routine on command). If he’s working with a
particularly docile horse, he can get it to respond to quiet voice command,
or even a hand gesture or a shoulder turn. Sometimes, with a very spirited
animal, he’ll lasso a hind leg and “hobble” it until it learns it’s not going to
gets its way with him. Buck shows ‘em who’s boss. He’s just determined
not to be violent about it.
It seems that Buck Brannaman, the child roping star, was abused as a
child by a perfectionist “stage Dad” whose idea of discipline was corporal
punishment. When Buck’s mother died, it left no one to ameliorate his
dad’s severe strictness. (Never mind that his sainted Mom was apparently
complicit in his dad’s early abuse; that part is pointedly ignored.) The whole
sad situation, including the later involvement of social services and the
experience of foster homes, left Buck Brannaman emotionally scarred. And
determined that he was not going to whip or beat anybody or any creature,
including horses.
Well, one way you can manage your own emotions is to always be your
own boss. Buck Brannaman works for no man except himself. And, over
a period of years, Buck Brannaman has so perfected his horse-training
techniques that there isn’t a horse anywhere that he doesn’t know how to
handle. So, from his point of view, there’s no reason to get violent or severe
with any horse. In fact, he’s come to the point in his life where he genuinely
believes there is no such thing as a horse with a behavioral problem. The
problem is with the people who bring the horses to him.
Now here’s where it gets a little tricky. Sure, for Buck Brannaman, who can
handle any horse anywhere, there’s no reason to get rough with them. But
the poor untrained amateurs, the ones who don’t have his skills, and who
are operating out of fear because some wild-eyed stallion has already hurt
them or someone close to them, find themselves berated by Buck, and one
is even reduced to tears. Buck implies that they must have some problem
within them that causes their horses to be neurotic. Because it can’t possibly
be the horse’s fault. You wonder if Buck is really wanting to reprimand his
long-deceased father, but can’t, so he castigates these hapless amateur horse
trainers instead. Buck tells the camera that he believes how a person handles
a horse is like a window into that person’s soul. But isn’t that a little bit
like judging everyone on the basis of how well they do a skill which you’re
already good at? Wouldn’t that be like a car mechanic judging everyone
according to how well they can overhaul an engine? And implying that the
ones who can’t somehow have something wrong with them?
Later, we get to meet Buck’s wife, who’s supportive of his constant travels,
but usually doesn’t go with him, and his youngest daughter, who sometimes
does travel with him and wants to be just like him. But we’re told nothing
about any other family members, or why it is that Buck usually travels alone.
Occasionally, he still competes in rodeos, but mostly, he lives by himself
in his travel trailer, where seldom is heard a discouraging word. Maybe
he’s still, at heart, just an old cowboy who feels most comfortable up in the
saddle, commanding animals, and the skies are not cloudy all day.
Ronald P. Salfen is co-pastor of United Presbyterian Church, Greenville,
Texas.
