5 Perspectives: Understanding Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse & Burro Program
From Range to Adopted Home: The Team Behind the Wild Horse and Burro Journey
Following is the first story in a five-part series exploring the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program through different perspectives. Told from the viewpoint of someone observing the people who care for these animals every day – from specialists on the range to wranglers, facility managers, and adoption event staff – this story offers a closer look at the team working together to balance land stewardship, animal welfare, and public trust.
People often ask those who work in the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program the same question: “How do you do this job?”
They are usually referring to the hardest parts -- the gathers, the condition of the animals and the land, and the difficult conversations that come with sustainably managing public lands and overseeing a program that people care deeply about. The truth is that it isn’t always easy. But it matters. Because every day, people across the program are working toward the same goal: healthy animals on healthy land. And that work doesn’t belong to just one role. It takes an entire team.
On the Range
The BLM is charged with managing public lands for multiple use and sustained yield. That means authorizing a variety of uses like energy development, mining, oil production, wildlife habitat, livestock grazing, and recreation all at the same time, sharing America’s public lands. Yet the BLM still has to ensure the land remains healthy enough it is still around for our children and grandchildren. It takes a team of leaders, managers, biologists and specialists to analyze all the different uses and the potential impact on the environment. For Wild Horse and Burro Specialists who work on the range, the work begins where the horses and burros live. Their office is the landscape itself – open rangelands, remote water sources, and miles of terrain where herds move season after season. They monitor herd sizes, track how animals are distributed across the landscape, and evaluate forage, water availability, and habitat conditions. If herd size isn’t managed, over time, they begin to see patterns. At times, grass doesn’t grow back the way it once did. Water sources can become crowded. Animals traveling farther in search of food and water. Unlike wildlife, wild horses and burros don’t have natural predators, so a herd can double in number every four years. When herds grow beyond what the land can support, the effects ripple outward. Native wildlife competes for the same resources, vegetation struggles to recover and the animals themselves begin to feel the strain. Gather decisions are never taken lightly. They are based on years of monitoring, data, and planning. Specialists consider weather patterns, habitat conditions, and animal welfare standards before any operation takes place. Their responsibility is to look ahead in order to protect both the animals and the land that sustains them.
After the Range
When horses and burros leave the range, a new group of people begin their work. At off-range facilities, facility managers and wranglers take over the daily care of the animals. They help ensure the health, safety, and well-being of each horse and burro in their care. Facility managers oversee the operations that keep everything running smoothly, from feeding schedules and veterinary care to facility maintenance and staff coordination. Wranglers and facility managers work closely with the horses and burros themselves. They monitor behavior, ensure animals have food and clean water, and handle them carefully as they adjust to their new environment. For many horses and burros, this is the first time they have experienced such close human interaction, so patience and calm handling are essential. Day after day, these teams build routines that help the animals settle and recover from the stress of relocation. Their work is steady and hands-on, often happening quietly behind the scenes.
Preparing for Adoption
Eventually, many of these horses and burros will have the opportunity to find homes through adoption events held across the country. Preparing for these events takes significant coordination. Off-range corral facility managers, wranglers and veterinarians ensure animals are ready to begin their journey to their new home. They make sure their vaccinations are updated, hooves are trimmed and that they have the correct documentation to travel to their new homes. Wild horse and burro specialists work closely with facility staff, headquarters staff, public affairs, arena managers and local partners to prepare the event site. They evaluate road access, space, footing, shade, and water access to ensure a safe and low-stress environment for both animals and visitors. Behind the scenes, teams review the background of each animal. For example, where it came from, how long it has been in BLM care, and what type of adopter may be the best match. Not every animal is right for every person, and part of the team’s responsibility is helping to ensure successful partnerships.
Adoption Day
When adoption day arrives, the atmosphere changes. Families walk through the event grounds. Children stand on tiptoes to see the horses and burros. Trainers study the animals carefully, watching movement and temperament. BLM staff and volunteers help guide conversations, answer questions, and walk visitors through the adoption process. Their goal is to not rush decisions, but to help people understand what it means to bring a wild horse or burro home. Sometimes someone pauses at a pen longer than the others. They watch quietly; they imagine what partnership might look like, and those moments matter to the people who work in the program because every successful adoption represents more than a new home for a horse or burro -- it represents a step toward restoring balance on the range.
A Shared Commitment
The Wild Horse and Burro Program is complex and often misunderstood. It requires difficult decisions, long-term planning, and a deep commitment to stewardship. But behind every decision are people who care deeply about the land and the animals that depend on it. From wild horse and burro specialists monitoring herds across vast landscapes, to facility managers overseeing daily care, to wranglers working patiently with horses and burros, to adoption staff helping connect animals with new homes -- each role contributes to the same goal: healthy animals; healthy land; and a future where both can continue to thrive. And when an animal leaves an adoption event with someone ready to commit to its care, the team that helped guide its journey is reminded why the work is worth doing. Because when you step back, the story of the Wild Horse and Burro Program isn’t just about the animals or land alone. It’s about the many perspectives that shape the work -- from the mustang moving across the range, to the land that sustains it, to the science that helps guide decisions, to the adopters who open their gates and their lives. And in the middle of it all are the people who care for these animals every step of the way, working quietly behind the scenes to keep the balance.
When the Land Speaks: A Story of Balance on the Range
Following is the second story in a five-part series exploring the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program through different perspectives. Told from the viewpoint of what the land would say if it could speak, this story offers a closer look at what it takes to balance land stewardship, animal welfare, and public trust.
I remember when the balance felt right. The herds moved across me in small numbers. Grass had time to grow back. Springs stayed clear. Wildlife had room to thrive. The horses were strong, and there was enough of me for everyone to enjoy and thrive. Then the herds grew.
At first, I welcomed them. Wild horses are part of my story. I could see them and feel them running across my open spaces and it felt so freeing. But slowly, things began to change. My grass didn’t grow back fast enough. My water sources became crowded and muddy. Soil loosened and blew away in the wind. The herd was monopolizing so much of my time and energy that my wildlife friends started moving elsewhere.
I tried to keep up. I tried to give more. But I just couldn’t. I heal slowly, so it may take me years -- even decades -- to recover. The horses began to feel it too. Winters became harder. Summers became hotter. Food and water were harder to find. Some horses grew thin. Foals were born into a tougher world than the one their parents knew. I was still home to them, but I just couldn’t support them all.
Balance is not about my loving horses less and not wanting them here with me; it’s about making sure they can live healthy lives when they’re with me. When some horses are gathered and find homes off the range, something changes. Grass begins to return. Springs grow clearer. Wildlife comes back. And the balanced number of horses who remain grow stronger. This is what balance looks like. I am their home, and a home must stay healthy to care for those who live within it.
When balance returns, I can breathe again. And so can they.
From Sagebrush to Virginia Grass: A Mustang’s Journey
Following is the third story in a five-part series that shares different perspectives on the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program. Told from the point of view of a wild horse, this story follows its journey from the wide-open landscapes of the west to a Wild Horse and Burro adoption event in Doswell, Virginia. Through this lens, the story offers a personal look at how land stewardship, humane care, and opportunity come together—one step at a time.
I was born out West, where the land just keeps going and going and going. My earliest memories are of moving with my herd - grazing, walking, stopping for water, then moving again. That was our routine. We paid attention to everything - the wind, other wildlife, humans recreating, unfamiliar sounds, and each other. The land provided what we needed, and we learned how to survive by staying together.
For a long time, life stayed pretty much the same. But over time, I could tell things were changing. Some of the grass didn’t grow back like it used to. Water didn’t last as long in certain places. Our herd kept growing, and there were more of us competing for the same food and water and we were travelling further and further to find food. We didn’t have predators to keep our numbers in check. We just followed our instincts year after year, and the land could only handle so much.
That’s where people from the Bureau of Land Management come in. They are responsible for watching over the land and the animals that depend on it, even when the choices aren’t easy and require balancing the needs of the land and all the animals. One day that stands out for me began with a loud and strange noise -- it was unfamiliar and it created so much dust in the air. We all moved quickly, and I could feel how tense everyone was. But as things slowed down something unexpected happened. The chaos eased. There were people nearby watching closely and moving carefully. They guided us without hurting us.
I didn’t understand it at the time. Later, I would come to realize that what felt scary and confusing in the moment was meant to help both us and the land we depended on. It was part of how the Bureau of Land Management works to keep herds healthy and gives the land time to recover. Shortly after I found myself in a corral with my peers. Food and water were provided every day. We had time to rest. It was kind of like school, we learned the new routine and people moved calmly and paid attention to how we were doing. I learned that being watched didn’t always mean danger. I learned that humans can be patient.
This new life experience was quieter and more predictable. The days followed a routine, and I started to notice the people who showed up regularly to check on us. They made sure we were healthy and gave us time to adjust. Some talked to us as they worked. Even though I didn’t understand their words, I understood the calm in their voices. Eventually another change took place. This one felt very different -- less frightening and almost exciting.
The road trip east was long with a few breaks to rest along the way. The land outside shifted as we traveled. Open spaces turned into rolling hills, then trees -- more trees than I had ever seen. Everything smelled different and the air felt heavier. When the trailer doors opened , I stepped into a place called the Meadow Event Park in Doswell, Virginia. The grass looked softer and much greener there. I could hear people talking and laughing nearby. Families walked past, some stopping to watch. Kids stood on their tiptoes to see better. Some people moved quickly. Others slowed down and really looked closely.
This was an adoption event. These events are one way the Bureau of Land Management helps connect wild horses with people capable of providing care, training, and partnership. One person stayed longer than the others. They didn’t reach out right away. They just stood there, quiet and patient, looking into my eyes. I stepped a little closer, and they smiled back at me. Something shifted that day.
I was about to be transported to my forever home. In that moment I realized this journey from the open land out West to Virginia wasn’t about leaving where I came from. It was about moving forward. I’m still a mustang. The land shaped me. But now I have the chance to learn something new about partnership, trust, and what comes next.
I Went to Learn -- and Came Home With a Mustang
Following is the fourth story in a five-part series exploring the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program through different perspectives. Told from the viewpoint of a wild horse adopter, it follows one person’s experience at an adoption event in Doswell, Virginia.
I didn’t go to the adoption event in Doswell planning to come home with a horse, even though I knew I had that empty corral at home and that my trailer was ready to go. I went because I wanted to understand more. I’d read about the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program and followed the discussions around it. I knew wild horses were important to people and deeply symbolic of our shared cultural heritage. What I didn’t fully understand was how much careful planning and management goes into protecting both the animals and the land.
When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was how calm everything felt. There was no pressure. No one trying to sell me on anything. Horses stood quietly in their corrals, watching people pass by. BLM staff and volunteers were nearby, answering questions and explaining what adoption really involves, not just bringing a horse home, but being ready for the work that comes with it.
That’s when one horse caught my attention. They weren’t flashy or demanding attention. They stood a little apart, alert but relaxed, taking everything in. I stopped without really meaning to. Something about that horse felt steady. I stayed longer than I expected. A BLM specialist came over and asked if I had questions. I had plenty. What kind of training would the horse need? What should I expect early on? How long had they been in care? The answers were straightforward and honest. No sales pitch, just information and support. That’s when it really clicked.
This wasn’t just about rehoming a horse. It was about being part of a larger stewardship effort by helping precious habitat recover while giving a horse a new opportunity. When I decided to adopt, it didn’t feel rushed, it felt right. The process was clear, and I never felt on my own. From fencing requirements to transport and care resources, the BLM team made sure I was prepared and not just excited.
The first day at home was quiet. The mustang took everything in slowly. I remembered what I’d been told: trust takes time. Weeks passed, and we got to know each other. Small steps mattered. Calm moments mattered. What surprised me most was how much I was learning along the way about patience, about paying attention, and about the land and what it needs to stay healthy. This horse carries the story of the west with them. And now, that story continues here, in a place that feels like a new beginning.
Following the Evidence: Science and the Story of Balance
Following is the final story in a five-part series exploring the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro Program through different perspectives. Told from the perspective of what science* might say if it could speak, this piece offers a closer look at how research and monitoring help guide the balance between land stewardship, animal welfare, and public trust.
I don’t take sides. I observe. I measure. While seasons change and conversations grow louder, I quietly gather information from the same places across the West. I study the grasses, soil, water, wildlife, and animals that depend on the land. I’m always asking one simple question:
Is the land keeping up with what is being asked of it?
I notice the small things first. I see how tall the grass grows and how much bare ground begins to appear. I test how easily the soil absorbs water after a storm. I watch springs and streams to see whether they remain clear and cool or become crowded and muddy. I pay attention to the condition of the animals living on the range and how they fare through changing seasons. One year alone doesn’t tell the whole story, it takes decades to reveal patterns.
I’ve noticed that rangelands grow slowly; rainfall is unpredictable, wildfires can occur, and native grass grows only a few inches each year. Soil that took years to form can be lost quickly once it is disturbed and takes time to rebuild. When more animals rely on the land than it can support, the changes are gradual. Grass struggles to grow back between grazing seasons. Bare soil becomes more common. Wind and rain begin to carry the soil away. Water runs across the surface instead of soaking in, and springs and streams begin to show signs of stress. These changes are quiet, but they are measurable.
I also see what happens when the land is given time to recover. When pressure is reduced and balance begins to return, grass slowly grows back and plant diversity increases. Soil becomes more stable and better able to hold water. Springs begin to clear, and wildlife returns to areas that once provided shelter and food. The animals that remain on the range grow stronger because the resources they depend on become more reliable again.
Over time, one truth becomes clear to me. Healthy land supports healthy animals, and healthy animals depend on healthy land. The two cannot be separated. My role is not to make emotional decisions. My role is to follow long-term patterns and provide the information that helps guide stewardship of the land. Each year brings new data, new weather patterns, and new challenges, and I continue to watch as the story unfolds.
I don’t choose sides. I simply help show what the land is telling us, and I will keep watching.
*Technical information compiled from studies by U.S. Geological Service; Natural Resources Conservation Service; Bureau of Land Management; State wildlife agencies who monitor western rangelands; and several universities: Texas A&M, Colorado State, and New Mexico State.
Minerva Anderson is a former public affairs lead with Department of Interior Communications.
Photo courtesy of the Bureau of Land Management’s Wild Horse and Burro program.
