- Israel says Bangkok, Delhi, and Tbilisi attacks all linked – to Iran
- Why Ahmadinejad is eager to show off new Iran nuclear facilities
- Why a Saudi blogger faces a possible death sentence for three tweets
- America's big wealth gap: Is it good, bad, or irrelevant?
- No budget? No problem! The strange politics behind a budgetless America.
Kidspace: The secrets of training a circus horse
Get to know them, says this big apple circus trainer, and know how to reward them.
When she was 10, Katja Schumann entered the ring for her first performance in the circus her family owned in Denmark. She was a "ballerina on horseback." Now she is doing what her great-great-great grandfather, her father, and all her Danish ancestors in between did: training circus horses. Maybe that's why she is so good at it.
I've come to New York City to watch Ms. Schumann and her horses perform in the Big Apple Circus. As I wait for the show to begin, I'm excited. I can't wait to see what Schumann will do this year. Last time I saw her, she rode an American buffalo into the ring at the end of the show and asked it to bow!
Schumann enters the ring on a graceful, long-legged chestnut horse. She is wearing a flaming red costume with glittering gold trim. In place of a saddle is a scarlet cloth - she's riding bareback. More difficult than riding bareback, though, is the fact that her horse has no bridle. Like many native American riders of the past, Katja has only a thin rope around the neck of her spirited mount. There's no bit in his mouth to help Schumann control him.
Two other horses and riders are also in the ring. Each rider holds the corners of long, wide strips of red silk hung from the top of the circus tent. The horses move in, out, under, and over the huge, billowing folds of fabric. It looks like a graceful dance, but to me it is also a show of the horse trainer's skill.
Like other animals that are prey rather than predators, horses are naturally skittish. Their eyes are on the sides of their heads, which lets them detect movement over a broad area around them, but otherwise they don't see very well. They are suspicious of any unfamiliar movement, and their instinct is to run away from anything that frightens them.
So some parts of the act push the limits of a horse's trust. In one part, a rider grabs a length of silk in each hand and lifts himself off his horse. Using the fabric as gymnastic rings, he does flips over the horse's back. In another part, a rider uses the silk strips to catapult himself onto the horse's back from behind.
Another time, a rider canters around the ring, holding the billowing silks, then lifts himself off the horse's back. (A canter is like a slow gallop.) I can tell that the chestnut horse doesn't like this part. He tosses his head and shows a little of the whites of his eyes. But he keeps cantering rhythmically as the rider flies around the ring just over the horse's head. Schumann stands at the center of the ring directing the horse with nothing but a short whip, which she uses the way a teacher uses a pointer.
A typical horse - especially a young, spirited one - would take one look at the flapping fabric and bolt from the ring. How does Schumann get her horses to perform such acts in a noisy, whirling circus environment?
"She has a lot of patience," says Schumann's 17-year-old daughter, Katherine. "She finds out how each horse thinks, and she makes it easy for him to do what's being asked. When he does it, she gives him lots of praise."




