Grassy Munchies all!

During a hearty munching session recently I found myself pondering on how different humans and horses are – literally worlds apart.

Despite this my pals tell me again and again of how horses and humans manage to become best of friends, creating unique partnerships and bonds with each other.

To stay alive horses live completely in the moment – all our senses tuned into the world around us at every second of every day. Our humans keep telling us only horses living in the wild need to worry about this. Try telling that to our genetics!

On the other hoof, humans seem to dwell on the past and future, paying little attention to the present. As most humans don’t need to spend their ‘here and now’ trying to stay alive, strikes me they could be enjoying it a bit more.

Worlds apart couldn’t be more true when it comes to our intelligence.

Humans are equipped with a high level of reasoning and self-awareness. Whether they choose to use this is another matter, but let’s not dwell on that.

Because horses are so different humans can sometimes think we’re not clever, but we are – just in a very different way.

Horses have a superior emotional intelligence with refined intuition and instinct. Bit of a nifty sixth sense actually. From a distance we can accurately understand the intent of an approaching animal. A sleepy lion, full up on it’s latest victim, will have a very different intent to a starving lion desperate to eat!

We horses can also sense the emotion of our humans. Often from a distance and sometimes before they have any idea what they themselves are feeling!

Just for the record, we really like hanging out with humans who are calm, consistent, true and trustworthy. A human bringing all the baggage of a bad day to us can quite honestly turn around and try again tomorrow.

Left to our own devices, we can spike our stress and adrenaline levels in seconds to take flight in a life or death situation and drop them back down in equal time – using stress for it’s intended purpose.

As I say though, this is left to our own devices.

Humans seem to carry far too much stress around far too much of the time, which they unintentionally pass on to us. Keeping us confined too long, isolated from our pals or generally never allowing us to be what we are – horses! – adds to this stress, creating an overload.

Horses are congruent by nature – my vocabulary is really coming on isn’t it! Anyway, this means we can look calm and content on the outside, but inside we might be unhappy and stressed. We need this characteristic to avoid showing any weakness to predators.

When we do start showing our stress with so called ‘vices’ or ‘bad behaviour’ it means our stress levels have peaked. Instead of seeing this as ‘bad behaviour’ it would be really helpful if humans considered it as ‘information’ we’re trying to give.

This horse below used to live with us in our field until her human moved her to a field on her own. I feel very sad for her and cross all my hairy feathers that Kat will never do this to me. Being alone can make us extremely stressed and unhappy.

To sum up my grassy ponderings, I reckon that humans are probably light years away from truly understanding how we think and feel. In turn, we horses are light years away from understanding the sophisticated human intelligence.

It seems to me that with patience and understanding our opposing characteristics combined has the ability to create something truly extraordinary. And, I hope me and Kat are on this path.

Although, she could try a bit harder. I mean, a few more hay cobs wouldn’t go amiss. And, perhaps a bucket of grassy munchies twice a day instead of just once would help?

GMFN

F x

Festive Grassy Munchies all!

When I’m not being prepared by my human Kat for life as a trail riding horse, I’m having an altogether pleasing time just being a horse, with my pals in our field.  

The field is a large space and there are 5 of us in our little herd. There is an accepted hierarchy.  I appear to be No 4, second to the bottom (I’m working on this). 

What it means is there are 3 others who are allowed to eat the haylage before me and to move me out of their way.  Or any way they feel like actually.  I feel very smug when Kat comes into the field and moves them out of MY way.

Anyway, it’s a work in progress and my extreme hairiness is a good disguise for my true wily and tenacious nature. You remember the grand theft hay cob incident don’t you? Say no more. I will be No 3 by the time I’m 6.

As there is one below me, there is hope.  Although, Tiger is the only male of the field so it could be argued he is taking his rightful place.   

Cassie is very much the Leader of our group, with Gilly her close No 2.

A Leader horse is very different to a Boss horse.  Leaders are intelligent and use minimal effort to make us ‘want’ to do as they ask and to follow them.

Boss horses, on the other hand, are dim-witted and heavy-hoofed.  They make a real song and dance about ‘ordering’ us to do what they command and to follow their bossy lead. Or else.

It’s easy to tell the difference.  Even a human could probably spot this one.

Leaders just give us ‘that’ look and we understand what we need to do.  A Boss horse will create a right old rumpus over the smallest thing.  They will charge at us, ears pinned back, teeth bared to bite our retreating bums.  Even worse, run us a ragged 10 laps round the field, just to move us away from the haylage.   It’s all very brash and unnecessary.

The main problem with Boss horses though is they’re using up all their energy to put on this hullabaloo of a show.  The question we then ask as a herd is how much energy will they have left when they need to lead us into a flight or death situation?

The Leader horse who uses little energy to get us to do what they want, generally earns the respect as the intelligent, trustworthy Leader. The one we feel confident and safe in following. The one we know will have unstoppable energy to help us all hot-hoof it if a lion came calling. 

Cassie fills this role pretty well.  She is another wise old lady with plenty of years under her fetlocks.  

Echo used to tell me about Murray who was the out and out Leader from the moment he stepped one of his long, black, aristocratic limbs into the field.  He only had to saunter past the other horses and they were putty in his hoofs.  Secretly, I think all the females were up to their forelock in deep swoon. 

Humans can get annoyed with their horse if they are a bit lazy out on the trail or in the arena.  Little do they realise they might have a highly intelligent Leader horse as their partner, conserving vital energy in-case they need to high tail it in the opposite direction to something intent on a horse/human sandwich for dinner!

It’s grass for thought actually. Perhaps I’m a bit too keen on my training sessions…

We of course prefer to have a Leader horse in charge rather than a Boss horse.  Same goes for our humans.  We like quiet but clear and considerate requests that make us feel safe, confident and happy.  Much nicer than a loud, flappy, angry, order, thank you very much.   

I haven’t experienced much loud flappyness from Kat yet, although she did get a bit cross the other day while she was cleaning my feet.  I was convinced that with a little effort, and on 3 legs, I could reach those hay cobs in her zipped pocket. I did hear her muttering something about NO more hay cobs for you Mrs. Might have blown that one.

Until next time, soggy grassy munchies

F x

Grassy Munchies all!

Life in the field with my pals has settled down recently to a nice routine of food, food and more food.

We have a constant supply of hay and Kat, my human, visits every day with a bucket full of delicious mushed up grassy munchies. I can’t tell you how amazing it is; I can quite lose myself.

Our training sessions seem to be less, which Kat says is because there’s more dark. Whatever. It works for me.

There is just one thing that isn’t right and for the hairy feathers of me I cannot understand it.

As a horse we feel safest with our own kind. It’s a safety in numbers thing. Our highly tuned instinct to detect horse eating beasts is far stronger combined than individually. It also means we can snooze if someone else is on watch. Bonus.

So why in the blazing green grasses does Kat insist on taking me on a training session without any of my pals. Just her? How can I rely on her detecting a horse devouring threat from mere instinct when she’s not one of us?

I don’t mean to be rude, but do humans actually have any instinct?

Kat says the females often do, but the males are pretty devoid. And I mustn’t mention this to John, her male human.

Needless to say I have raised the question of ‘just the two of us’ over and over.

I’ve suggested we just don’t go at all. Nope. Or maybe ask one of my pals if they want to come too? Nope. I continually recommend the quicker route home. Nope. The fact I could literally be saving our lives here just doesn’t seem to be getting through.

Between you and me I did discover quite a nifty trick of taking the quicker route myself.

I just locked my neck, set my jaw and hey presto I was in control! Unfortunately, Kat responded by the aptly named ‘circle dance’. She just turned me round and round until I was so dizzy I didn’t realise I was back on her longer route until it was too late.

Then, one day I was quietly moving into the neck lock position when this long stick appeared from nowhere. I didn’t fancy moving towards that stick at all, I can tell you.

I’ve heard stories from my pals about these sticks, or whips as they are sometimes called. I know if a human hits you with them they will hurt. I can’t see Kat doing that, but the fact it was there was enough to ruffle even my extremely hairy feathers.

The stick has been there ever since so I guess that nifty trick has had it’s day.

So it seems these ‘just the two of us’ training sessions are here to stay.

Echo, who left us in the summer to make her journey to the ever green fields and horse friends over the bridge, told me not to worry. She said her and Kat used to go for miles, always just the two of them and that eventually she began to trust Kat’s instincts, almost as she would one of her pals.

I find that hard to believe, but Echo was one wise old lady who I respected and trusted, even if she did only have one eye. So I guess I need to trust her on this one.

And, I suppose I could at least try and trust Kat. After all, her instincts were bang on with the soggy delicious grassy munchies she brings me every day.

Still, if she’s asking me to trust her instincts and follow her as my leader, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to put this to the test now and then. You know, just in case I did find any more nifty tricks up my feathers. Perfectly reasonable if you ask me.

Until next time – GMFN

Fx