‘Everybody Wins--the Horses, the Inmates and the Taxpayers’ : Colorado Convicts Break Mustangs to Aid Adoptions

In the corral, two sweating, frightened men strained to hang on to the thrashing, pawing, rearing, snorting wild horse at the end of a rope that suddenly seemed too short.

They had a lot in common, those three creatures struggling in the heat and dust. Like the animal, the men were prisoners. And just as they were being rehabilitated, so, too, was the horse.

Under the watchful eyes of one guard and several cowboys, all were participants in a project that uses prison inmates to prepare wild horses for adoption.

A year after the Colorado Wild Horse-Inmate Program (CWHIP) began at the state penitentiary, trepidation and suspicion have given way to unqualified praise from everybody involved.

The program, the first of its kind in the nation, aims to speed public adoption of wild horses now held in government pens. Its success has prompted inquiries from California, Nevada and New Mexico.

The Bureau of Land Management annually spends $9.3 million to care for up to 10,000 fenced wild horses and burros that have not been adopted.

An additional 44,763 horses and burros are believed to be roaming 41.5 million acres in 10 Western states. BLM statisticians say 14,500 of them must come off public lands to make grazing room for domestic livestock and wild game.

In April the BLM endorsed a five-point management plan drafted by a citizens’ advisory council. The fifth point advocated lifting a 1982 moratorium on killing wild horses and burros not adopted after 90 days in a holding pen.

Since the draft was announced, the BLM has received more than 6,000 letters, most of them opposing the killings, and the regulations are under review.

But the council also recommended continuing the inmate horse training as a way to encourage adoption.

Walt Jakobowski, who runs the BLM’s wild horse and burro program in Canon City, believes that if the horses are gentled by convicts, they become more desirable.

It took him more than a year, colleagues said, to persuade the BLM and the Colorado Department of Corrections to take the gamble.

“I was not in favor of it,” said prison Supt. Benny Johnson. “All I could see was high risk, no gain, a lot of injuries and headaches.”

But Jakobowski prevailed. It started small, with 50 horses and eight inmates. Only one had been around horses before that first day in the corrals.

“Our biggest problem was finding somebody to run the program who had experience with wild horses,” Jakobowski said. “Everything clicked into place when Ron Zaidlicz came on board.”

Zaidlicz is a veterinarian active in the National Organization for Wild American Horses, known as NOWAH and headquartered in nearby Bailey, Colo.

He agreed to teach the inmates animal husbandry. Fellow NOWAH member Tony Bainbridge, an experienced cowboy who has spent more than two decades working with wild horses, joined the experiment to show the prisoners how to halter-break horses.

“The deal was perfect,” said Jakobowski. “The prison provides the facilities and the labor, the BLM provides the horses and feed, and NOWAH provides the expertise.”

The BLM pays the corrections department $2.55 a day per horse, the standard fee for warehousing wild horses at the holding pens in Nevada, Nebraska and Texas. Johnson said the prison system is now making a slight profit on the program.

“There’s a light at the end of the tunnel for these horses,” said Jakobowski. “Because of the care and inmate training they get here, we’ve been able to adopt out nearly every one that’s come through.”

Besides teaching the horses to accept a halter, the prisoners treat illnesses and injuries, clean up coats, curry manes and tails, trim hoofs, and worm and vaccinate the horses. Each horse averages 30 days of gentling before being shipped to an adoption center for sale at $125 a head.

Thirty-five inmates and 350 horses are involved in the program. Bainbridge talks of expanding the stable to 1,000 horses and as many men as necessary to train them.

“We’ve got a good thing going here,” said Bainbridge. “Everybody wins--the horses, the inmates, and the taxpayers.”

Except for identical olive drab pants and white shirts, the felons look like tough-muscled, tanned wranglers. Their personalities emerge in their choice of head gear: some wear big, battered Stetsons, others tie bandannas around their foreheads, still others opt for baseball caps.

“This is the way to do time,” said Carl, a 30-year-old Denver inmate who asked that his last name not be used. “You never know what’s going to happen, you’re never bored, you’re out in the sunlight and you’re away from the prison atmosphere.

“This is the closest thing to freedom you’re going to get in the Big House.”

Some Get Hurt

Carl is halfway through a two-year sentence for assault. He heard about the program from other prisoners, but hung back the first few months because he knew that he might get hurt.

“This is an odds game, and eventually you’re going to lose,” he said, grinning as he rubbed a cut on his forehead.

The superintendent’s fears of inmate injuries were realized: The inmates have had several broken bones and a few concussions.

“But most prisoners went right back to the program after they healed up,” Johnson said.

The superintendent is now a wholehearted fan of the experiment.

‘Changes in Attitude’

“It gives them responsibility, and I’ve seen changes in attitude,” said Johnson. “They lose that separation when they form a bond between man and horse.”

Jakobowski said the program doesn’t attempt to teach the inmates to be professional farriers or cowboys.

“We’re trying to give them a positive experience, a work ethic, a feeling of being back in society,” he said. “These men must all work together as two-man teams. They have to depend on each other for their own safety. The program teaches them how to get along with people as well as wild horses.”

“These guys work hard,” said Bainbridge, a tough taskmaster who preaches that the horses’ safety comes first.

“Out here you’re not just a number, you’re a man. I forget they’re inmates. The best ones are the ones who haven’t had any experience with horses, who do it my way and don’t get creative on me.”

‘Best of the Best’

Rory Robinson’s only prior encounter with horses was a $5 trail ride. Now the 28-year-old from Aurora, Colo., imprisoned for burglary, brags that he’s “the best of the best” trainers at Canon City.

Robert Martinez finishes his three-year sentence for burglary in September. He is planning to supplement his painter’s income by breeding horses and has already adopted two he trained. His family is keeping them in Colorado Springs.

Carl is now considering getting into ranching when he gets back on the street.

“There are very few people who deal with wild horses on an eight-hour, five-day-a-week basis,” Carl said. “When I take a wild maniac and turn it into a trusting friend, that’s rewarding. That’s an accomplishment.”