Watching Horses

Today was a worrying day. I let Toady out of his 'diet' patch for a while and poo picked the field. I realised I had left Toady's sweet-itch hood in the house, so had to walk back to get it. When I came back I noticed that he wasn't grazing, so I watched him for a while. He was scratching the ground and seemed irritated. After a few tests, I realised he couldn't eat.

The vet came out and did various tests, but couldn't find an answer, so we decided to check up on him later in the day. I was sensible enough to leave him be for the rest of the morning, so I wasn't pushing my worry at him. Eventually I stopped long enough to listen to my intuition. The problem had to be his teeth.

This evening the vet sedated him and had a good look into his mouth. It turns out that he has a large gap inbetween two molars and grass had impacted. He cleared this out and suggested that that solved the problem.

If I had not forgotten the hood, I might not have noticed that Toady wasn't grazing. He often stands about for a while after eating breakfast, before he starts to graze.

The point is that we sometimes forget to take the time to simply watch our horses. I thought that I did, as most days I lean on the gate and watch them for ten minutes or so before I leave them. But if they all look ok, I am in a rush or its pouring with rain, I assume they are ok, and usually they are. But there might be one time when they are not, and today was one of them.

Four years ago I left a happy healthy - apparently fit - 5 year old pony playing in the field, and came home a few hours later to find him dead. He had died of sudden death syndrome. I have always said goodbye to my horses every time I leave them, but since Charlie's passing, I have made more of a point of it. Life is so precious and can be taken so quickly.

We must never take for granted that the furry lifeforce that shares our life is always going to be there. One never knows when you may say goodbye for the last time, so make the effort to share as much as you can with them now.

Too many words

Human beings use too many words. Words are often used to fill in the silences of our insecurities.

I was a fairly quiet child. To me, words only truly made sense when they were written down, woven together in a story or an insight. I have spent a lifetime learning to become an master of words, weaving them together for public speaking, workshops and in my relationships.

But horses don't need words. Like us, their brains are adept at deleting, distorting and filtering words and, from what I see with clients horses, most horses do all three!

Recently during a 'Empowerment for women' workshop, I saw how difficult it is for people not to speak. The task was to get a horse to take a few steps backwards. The delegates had no horse experience. The rules were that they could not touch the horse [another thing everyone found difficult to do!] and they could not talk.

Every single person babbled away to the horse, asking it to move back, saying please etc. Every few moments I would ask what the rules were. They all knew the rules, they just could not see a way of achieving this task without words.

Some of the horses walked off, bored and irritated. It is not possible to give 100% clear instruction to a horse by 'telling him' what you want. Yes, I agree that, we can teach them the meaning of some words, but the horse will be more likely to read your non verbal signals. You might incline your head, or there may be a change in your breathing or heartrate, or a slight shift in your weight. This is what the horse reads. A horse - by inate preference - will predominantly look for physical clues. They feel the energy and the intention of your mind and body and respond accordingly.

I once had the habit of babbling to my horses. But for several weeks I practiced not talking. I focused more on what I was saying with my body. The results were interesting, as I found my horses became more focused on me. I felt more assertive and it seemed that my horses understood me on a different level.

Let me give you an example:

Having finished feeding them in the field one evening, I walked towards the gate. Danny, my Welsh Section D, was standing with his chest against the gate, lusting after the grass in the other field :-) I was pretty relaxed but, as I got within three or four strides of him, I stood straighter and thrust out my chest, walking with a strong sense of purpose. The speed with which Danny backed off the gate was impressive and he looked at me with a kind of 'what was that about!' expression.

He was alert and ready for instruction, so I played with him a little. I felt my pleasure at how clever he was, rather than telling him, and when he had finished I stood quietly next to him, with an arm over his back. He huffed on my neck and I 'felt' how much I loved him, and he knew.

Having qualified this year as a dog behaviourist, I find that it also works incredibly well for dogs. In relation to our animals, a partnership with less words has deeper intention, leadership and energy and it is - I can report - fantastic.