Part of the Herd

If you've never had the experience of your horses treating you as a true member of their herd, I highly recommend the experience, having just had one today. It is such a thrill when you realize that your horse looks at you and expects you to understand his language fully and adhere to his social norms. A kick when they acknowledge you as one of the lead mares. An honor when they humbly come to you for mutual grooming. I mean, here is a 1,200 lb. animal who could easily off me with one toss of his head, and he is choosing – CHOOSING – instead to lower that head to my chest asking for a soft scritch behind his ears.

I was out taking pictures. My ranch manager had put a filly of hers in with two of our geldings, one of whom is young and playful. The filly has been lonely since her pasture mate left yesterday for his new home, and Magnum, my gelding, has been bummed since his pasture playmate has been laid up with a bum eye for a while. My other gelding is one of those prototypical grumpy old men, though underneath it all, Freckles is, like those quintessential grumpy old men, a marshmallow with a caretaking streak a mile wide. You just better damn well never say it out loud though – HARUMPH.

Looking out my breakfast nook window this afternoon I saw Magnum and the filly running and playing, tails held high streaming in the wind. The sheer beauty of their joyful leaps and twirls, the thrill of their on-the-run kicks, the emotion of their sturdy Quarter Horse muscles in flight were all screaming for me to get that camera out and capture this on film. So I reached for our video/still combo digital and headed out the door.

It seems I watched too long though, because by the time I got to the pasture, they had had their fill of running for the time being, and all three were far off in my favorite part of their pasture, under the oaks, grazing calmly. Nonetheless I headed over, since this area, with the oaks flanking the draw for our largest tank, is the most enchanting place on our ranch. I could think of no more relaxing way to spend the remainder of this perfect afternoon than hanging out with some of my horses in that perfect spot. I snapped a couple of shots before Magnum came to greet me as he always does. This time he brought me his new girlfriend, too, as if introducing her to his "mom." With his sweet eyes dropped and occasionally stealing a glimpse upward, he seemed to seek my approval, and when I said "what a beautiful little girlfriend you have Magnum" he brightened and lifted his head proudly.

Now that was a sweet moment, but it was not as sweet as when, a moment later, Freckles came up to my other side and stood calmly by my shoulder. Freckles has always been a somewhat aloof horse, so I have been working on melting his heart as we've lived here with him. I try to make much of my time with him have nothing at all to do with riding. I just focus on building a trusting relationship. My training and handling style with horses is one based on mutual respect and absolutely no hitting, so it is rewarding, if slow. Unfortunately, despite wishing that Freckles not see humans as always coming for him only when they want to put him to work, it's tough here since he is that horse that every ranch should have; the one you could put a newborn on for a trail ride and know all would be fine, that Freckles would take good care of the baby. The kind of horse we call "bombproof." In fact, just this week Freckles proved his worth yet again when we put the wife of a visiting couple, who had insisted she could ride the wildest horse in the world, on Freckles for a ride around the perimeter of the ranch.

It turns out the husband had long doubted his wife's riding ability, and I had noticed pretty quickly that some of her mannerisms belied her true horsemanship ability. She wanted to run, and tried to get Freckles to trot for her. And tried. And tried. Yet Freckles could not be budged. She asked us if he was sick? No. Did he dislike her? No. Is he just lazy? No. He can go quite fast when he wants to. What we didn't tell her is that Freckles was taking care of her. He could feel her novice body on him and ensured she would not get into trouble.

So when she wanted to ride bareback the next two days, we again relied on good old Freckles. Only on day two I decided she'd do fine on my mule, who I'd tested out bareback the day before.

I have a theory that riding bareback serves to not only give the rider a much better "seat," or sense of balance on the horse, but also to build a bond between horse and rider. You are literally skin to skin in a very intimate dance. That is, if it's done right. If you as the human do not hold up your end of the bargain and instead sit heavy on the horse's back, acting like an interfering bag of potatoes, bareback can be a horse's worse nightmare.

Whether it was just the extra time with Freckles this week or the bareback ride on him yesterday, I must have done something right because as he stood at my side today, I realized that this was the first time in nearly 3 years I'd seen Freckles ask to be loved on. So I granted his wish, and there we stood for a solid 10 minutes, starting out with a good scritch behind the ears, a massage of his neck and withers, moving to a brushing move on his belly, then back up to just hug his neck and whisper in his ear. He surprised me again by turning toward me for a soft hug, gently cradling his beautiful head on my left shoulder. Then he let out a big sigh. I was thrilled. I love all those expressions of trust and contentment I get from my horses that I've taken the time to be fair and gentle with. I was so excited I decided to spend another half hour or so out there with this mini-herd. Besides, Magnum and his new girlfriend were still grazing, so maybe I'd get some play photos yet.

Freckles still had more surprises for me, though, as each time I moved he came up to my side yet again and was content to just stand quietly with me, sighing, and dozing briefly. What a thrill! Yet this was not the quintessential "part of the herd" nod from today yet. Magnum and the filly kept grazing for a while, contentedly munching on the high grass. They occasionally moved our way, as Magnum is normally as attached to me as Freckles was today, so he came to seek attention and scratches. I had a pleasant 15 minutes or so of just leaning on a sturdy old oak, taking snapshots of the horses and enjoying observing their movements and interactions, both with each other and with me.

Time passed, and dusk came too soon signaling dinner time. Freckles is a chow hound. I tell him I know he thinks he'll get blown away in the next breeze if he doesn't eat frequently and eat a LOT. In reality of course, he is on the border of obesity. Suddenly, Freckles seemed to remember the dinner truck would be arriving soon, and he turned and started for the stall paddock. After a moment, the filly, without even looking up from her grazing, took out after him, mirroring his steady walking pace. I had been petting and talking with Magnum, and he became instantly worried. His eyes and forehead wrinkled up some, as he looked back and forth, back and forth.

That's when it dawned on me. Magnum knew we MUST do the proper horse thing, which is fall in line behind Freckles, but his stupid human wasn't heeding the rules! "Magnum thinks I'm part of the herd" I realized. And my heart leapt in joy!! But then I did another faux pax. I assumed that, even though young and gelded, Magnum would like to play the role of the stallion, who falls to the back of the line to protect his herd in front of him. As I moved off in front of Magnum, he rushed up to my left side and very, very gently, yet firmly, grabbed my shirt. The frantic look on his face told me quite clearly that I was making a grave error. No, I was not to be in the middle of the herd! I am a boss mare, I must fall at the back to protect the herd! So I stopped and gave him my ok to move on, which he did, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to ensure I was still there.

As we made our way back, I noticed that Freckles, too, was acknowledging my herd membership, as when he'd stop to let everyone catch up he'd stay put until I was within the right distance, and then he'd take off again.

And that was how I ended my day, just another horse, albeit an extremely pathetic looking one. Being a boss mare and bringing up the rear of her herd of four. Freckles the old guy was leading the way to the feeders, the young filly next, then Magnum, the youngest male, and finally this odd human taking the position of protector. One by one we filed through the gate into the feeding area.

After wistfully saying my good-night's to them all, I made my way back to the house and to feed the donkeys who were waiting patiently.

But I am still glowing from the special feeling of being accepted by the horses, of being an acknowledged boss mare, of knowing that all my time spent quietly building a true relationship with them truly is time well spent.

Maybe we CAN talk to the animals, after all.