Animals as Teachers: Lessons from Horses (Part 1)

While we, as humans, like to think that we are superior as a species, the reality is that we are not superior. If anything, we are inferior, as we find it hard to communicate with other species, yet other species have a relatively easy time in communicating with other species (not just us).

For my next two posts, I want to reflect over my animal teachers; specifically horses.

We'll start with horses that I have met outside of my schooling first.

While I had some interactions with horses before these listed,  none were more developed than those that came into my life through my friend.

(I miss this sweet boy still--Zip.)

First up, is Zip, a large, few spots/near white Appaloosa gelding. This boy was a great horse for me to start truly learning to ride. I had limited experience up until this point, and it was on this gelding that I learned the basics. Funnily enough, he and my friend did not get along well, and Zip bucked on him several times. When I rode him, though he was gentle, and took care of me, only bucking once due to another horse spooking.

(Alpha Horse-Bubba)

The next horse would be Bubba, an Appendix Quarter Horse, who taught me that as much as I like Thoroughbreds, they might not be the right match for someone like me, who prefers trail riding (as a whole, I realize that some are perfectly suited for this). While he was great to work with on the ground, he was a bit too "hot" for me to try and handle riding wise for my experience level at the time, and while I will always admire his beauty (that wedge-shaped Thoroughbred head on him!) I learned that I would most likely be a stock horse person due to their calmer demeanor. He was also the first to teach me about herd hierarchy, which had been something I'd only read about. Bubba showed me in person how a herd hierarchy works and how a good alpha/lead/head horse functions. He disciplines members of his herd, protects them, and of course, makes sure he eats first. All that aside, I starrted seeing the language of horses at work. It would take my classes to understand what exactly it all meant though.

(Banjo-Bud investigating all the grooming tools)

Then there's Banjo. A solid bay Paint Horse with chrome (white markings) and blue eyes. Banjo has taught me that you may not always get along with a horse, and that it's okay. Picking your battles is just as important as riding every day. He and I have had more ups and downs than I can count, but at the end of the day, I still like him. He's a good horse for the owner, and while I may ride him from time to time, he and I just have a day to day relationship of "let's see what mood we're in today".

(Rusty-Colt)

Next is Rusty, a young horse who reminded me in no uncertain terms that I will always have something to learn-and that's a beautiful thing, truly. After taking my classes I was confident in my skills and decided I'd teach Rusty to lunge. This went fairly well to start and then one day he refused to go out and caught my hand twice with his kicks. I didn't know what to do. Stark reminder that I still had a LOT to learn, and I probably always will. I'm perfectly okay with that, and I just needed that reminder (though I could have done without those kicks!)

(My favorite photo of Snowflake)

While there have been others horses who I have met, this is the last one who had several lessons to teach. Snowflake, my Little Mare. When my friend was injured, I did chores for him, helping him out, being the way he is, he wanted to pay me back, but as he'd been out of work before his accident, I refused money. As he still wanted to pay me for my time, I accepted Snowflake as payment. At first, I did not like Snowflake. Shocking, I realize, and I shake my head at my stupidity at the time, but I became fond of her, and I like to think she of me. I achieved my lifelong dream of owning a horse...and it only lasted a year. 

(Little Mare)

Snowflake, while well-broke, would not stay sound. This quickly ate up any funds I had for her care and upkeep, and it was a gut wrenching decision to sell her. I am not ashamed to admit that I cried when I had to part with her. Even knowing that she was going to a good home with two little girls who loved her, the little girl in my own soul was broken and dejected. I had my dream, and I'd let it go. Thrown it away. Wasted it. In that is the lesson though, while it hurts to part ways, you need to do what's best for the animal(s) in your care. I could not afford to have a chiropractor come out constantly to treat her--her new family could/they weren't going to use her in the same capacity I had wanted (trail horse for me, simple riding horse for the girls).

(Another favorite photo of Little Mare)

She taught me many things though: the trust and love a horse can give to its person, learning to communicate both on the ground and from the saddle, how to take time in my busy days to go and see her, to be with her, not just to ride, and this would lead to how to take time for myself and those I love, not just working myself to death. I'm sure there were others but those were her biggest lessons.

(One of my last pictures of Snowflake-an intimate moment when she and Roger-donkey-allowed me to be apart of their herd. What the picture doesn't show well is that we are pressed together, shooing flies from each other, with me between Roger and Snowflake.)

These are horses outside of my schooling. The next post will be of the special lesson/school horses who have taught me many of the valuable lessons I now use when I work with these magnificent animals.

Till the next time.