Glenn Cochran marches to his own music. Nonetheless, the pairing of an old-time cowboy with gaited, South American horses seemed incongruous. Somehow, though, the match turned out to be near-perfect.

Glenn grew up in Central Texas in the 1950's and 60's, when the primary industries were cotton and cattle. It was a great time to be a cowboy because most of the work was still done the old-fashioned way.

"Just before I got into horses," Glenn remembers, "most working horses around here had a blend of cowhorse, or Quarter Horse, and gaited saddle horse blood. These smooth-gaited "single-footers" were highly esteemed by men who tended to be horseback from Ôcan Ôtil can't' ... pre-dawn Ôtil after dark. As late as the 70's, a few of these crossbred - but registered - Quarter Horses could still be found. Ocassionally they could be taught a running walk or a single foot. For decades I endeavored to teach every horse I rode, but with almost no success."

One day, Glenn's wife, Sallie, came home, full of enthusiasm after a horsewoman named Eileen Craig had introduced her to the Peruvian Paso. The two ladies became good friends and often rode together. Glenn even began helping Eileen start her colts ... when he could spare time from his medical practice and growing herd of Simmental cattle.

"The ranch work grew by leaps and bounds. It wasn't long before Sallie and I were putting a lot of miles on our horses," Glenn remembers, "and we decided the trot had to go. Actually Sallie figured it out before I did."

By then, Sallie had bought her first Peruvian, a thirteen-year-old, gray gelding named El Mercurio. "Merc somehow managed to convince my cowboy husband that there might, just-possibly, be good horses other than Quarter Horses," she says with a wide smile.

The Cochrans began accumulating Peruvian horses, which they used for riding fence, "prowling" pastures, checking cattle and a multitude of other jobs. "We were well past Ôthe back side of thirty'," Glenn grins, "and the smooth ride was worth having a lot of my cowboy friends think I was getting' a little strange! These horses were so foreign to them that one asked if they were from ÔPeruvia'!"

Before long Glenn began penning on his Peruvians rather than the Quarter Horses.

"The big step was when we started sorting with Peruvians," Glenn recalls. "To our delight, we found that most are Ôcowey' and will lock their radar on a cow quite well. The style - more Ôheads up' - is different from a Quarter Horse, but they get the job done. Then came the Ôacid test', the rope. Surprisingly they adapted very nicely."

Glenn has used two National Champion Peruvian stallions to rope and tag calves.

"They were completely satisfactory," he reports. "These days when I take a customer or a visitor out to see my cattle, I do it on a Peruvian, and I don't hear the words Ôsaddle sore' any more. Needless to say, I'm sold on Peruvians as ranch horses."

The proof is that the Cochrans are up to 40 horses, and only 5 are Quarter Horses.

Sallie mounts up to help with the cattle, but her first love is sidesaddle riding. She has the unmistakable air of a lady and wore an elegant top hat, tails and veil, when she rode in President Clinton's Inaugural Parade, in 1992, with the International Side Saddle Organization. In true Cochran style, she did it "her way."

"I managed to forget my stirrup," she recalls, "and, underneath my lovely skirt, had my foot tastefully secured with a piece of baling twine!" She and Eileen Craig started Texas Ladies Aside, a sidesaddle drill team that enjoys an international reputation and was designated the "Official Equestrian Drill Team of Texas" (in a 1995 resolution passed by the 74th Texas State Legislature).

Glenn has appeared before a few audiences himself. His debut as one of the breed's foremost non-traditionalists came years ago. He was training a horse named Cristal, owned by a friend.

"The owner had given me license to teach this horse anything I wanted while putting him in the bit," Glenn remembers, "and I taught him a few tricks."

Glenn took the horse into a Parade Class at the Lone Star Classic Show. One portion of the class was an individual workout set to music. Exhibitors were free to do whatever would show their horses to best advantage.

"I had some funky music, like the old circus music played during the parade of clowns," Glenn reports. "Right after entering the arena, I had Cristal do a good ol' Roy Rogers Ôrear up and paw the sky'. Then we side passed half the length of the arena, made a 180-degree turn and did the other half. Next came some figure 8's, sliding stops, and turnarounds. The spins we did in both the Peruvian (over the forehand) and western (over the hindquarter) style. We finished with another rear and paw.

Then Glenn left the arena, unsure of what to expect.

"All I'd ever heard was that you just don't do that sort of thing with Peruvians," Glenn recalls.

When Glenn returned to his seat in the stands, a group of prominent breeders visiting from Peru stood up and started toward him, obviously with something on their minds.

"To my relief, they hugged and congratulated me," Glenn says with a smile. "The congratulations weren't just for winning but for finally doing something fun at a horse show."

The repercussions went further. Suddenly Glenn was invited to do exhibitions all over Texas as well as North Carolina, Louisiana, Virginia and Arkansas. These he did with a series of horses he was training for other people.

"Then I decided I wanted my own trick horse so I could really get into the high-school-type work," Glenn says, "so I bought a weanling, a nephew of the horse I'd used for my debut in that first Parade Horse Class. I named him Caporal; and as he grew up, I introduced him to high school maneuvers."

Glenn was also a fan of the Mexican charros, and he trained Caporal for rope spinning and - thanks to the help of a talented Mexican named Ramon Becerra - bridleless riding.

"I brought Caporal along in as classical a manner as I was capable. I read all the books by the famous masters, attended clinics and watched videotapes. Then I'd go out to the corral and inflict all this education on poor, unsuspecting Capo, as I called him. All I can say is that he was mighty forgiving."

Capo became a ranch horse. He learned to pull 750-pound heifers out of bog holes, with a lariat dallied to the saddle horn; and he learned about branding, sorting and daily "prowling" the ranch through gullies, hills, mud, heat and cold. Even after he began doing exhibitions at shows, work continued on his repertoire of tricks.

"For the finale I had in mind, I taught him to rear up - with me on his back - and then drop straight into a bow with the top of his head touching the ground," Glenn continues. "We also kept working on preparations for a bridle-less exhibition."

At an important show in Fort Worth, Glenn decided to pull out all the stops and introduce Capo's new tricks. "He gave it everything he had," Glenn remembers. "I don't know how it looked, but it felt magnificent. When it came time for the finale, he came down in a full bow, with his face in the dirt; and I whipped the bridle off. Then came the loudest applause I"d ever heard. I turned Capo, and we charged across the arena flat out, at a full gallop."

Small complication! Glenn's right stirrup had broken. Ramifications? Many of Capo's cues were given with downward and outward pressure in the stirrups. Consequences? Lots of them and soon!

"About halfway across the arena, I realized that my friend Capo was out of control." is how Glenn tells it. "If he'd been used to working with Roy Rogers, that kind of applause probably wouldn't have scared him. But he wasn't, and it did. In the absence of cues from me, he started makin' his own decisions."

The exit gate from the arena had been closed, just in case anything went wrong. Unfortunately, Capo spotted a small pedestrian gate in the corner that was wide-open. He headed straight for it. "There was only time for a short prayer," Glenn jokes, "before Capo dove through that gate. Somehow I managed to grab the wall on each side, and I was shucked out of the saddle slicker'n pulling a silk shirt off a lizard."

Immediately two things happened. Glenn dropped to the ground, landing gracefully on his feet, and Capo screeched to a stop.

"It had registered that I was no longer in the saddle," Glenn says, "and it was as if he didn't feel it was safe to go on. That was a good decision because the stairs he was about to climb went up to the audience. Quickly I backed out of the gate, and he backed out, too. I said Ôbow', took off my hat; and we saluted the crowd. Great applause! As I led Capo through the livestock exit gate, the right stirrup fell off and hit the ground with a thud. It wasn't two days before I had all-new stirrup leathers on every one of my saddles."

For further information about Peruvian horses, visit the Internet Web Site of the American Association of Owners and Breeders of Peruvian Paso Horses at http://www.aaobpph.orgs