Many years ago, my horse was living at a boarding barn, and I’d often go down in the evenings for a bedcheck – see that his water buckets were clean and full, he had hay, he was healthy.
One night I was just about to leave when I happened to look out the back window of my horse’s stall, down a gentle slope of of grass and scrub leading to woods. No reason, just glanced that way – and what was that? A darker shape in the dimness, low to the ground. It moved!
I went out the doorway and walked down toward it, and realized, OMG, it’s a horse that got out of its stall, and it’s cast in a small hollow, can’t get back to its feet!
I ran from the shedrow to the owner’s house and rousted her and her daughter to come help. Between us, we were able to get the mare to her feet and safely back to her stall.
No one else would have been coming out to the barn later than I was there. It was a chilly night, somewhat damp. If no one had found her till morning, the horse would most likely have died.
And it was all thanks to random chance that I just happened to be there, just happened look her way in time.
@scudsucker – well, she did live on after that, but given it was three or four decades ago, she’s surely trotted over the bridge by now.
@Czarcasm – Thanks, but most horse people would have reacted as I did – horse in trouble, save the horse!
Of course, there are riders who come to the barn expecting their mount to be groomed, tacked up, and warmed up for them, and who leave it to a groom to tend the horse after they’re done with it. But anyone who’s actually done any of the labor of horse care and sees equines as more than something to use and forget, well, it’s a gut instinct to do one’s best for them.
I went for a large number of rides with a bunch of horses I was very familiar with. It was at a hotel offering horse rides but for reasons my family got them free, so I knew the horses pretty well. I learnt to ride (I still ride quite badly) but I stay on.
My younger sister, aged maybe 6(?) did not have control and her horse chose to cool himself off in a small stream. Throwing her into the water as he rolled about.
Horse riding is not really for people who don’t understand horses, and a huge amount of that is the grooming, feeding, etc. I have a friend with a horse, but I would not ride him until he knew me., if she even allowed me to, given my poor skills.
It’s a bit like hunting dogs - 5% hunting, 20% training, 75% making sure they are fed and happy.
There are people, usually the kind that have lots of money to buy horse care services, that do learn to ride skillfully despite not doing the hands-on work, but don’t themselves get their hands dirty, and to my mind usually don’t develop the kind of bond that comes from intimate contact with all aspects of their mounts’ lives. I guess it’s the divide between seeing a horse as a thing to be used versus a living, feeling, individual creature.
A couple of times back then I did spot a horse lying down in a turnout paddock and was able to detect it wasn’t napping (hey, no problem), but suffering a bout of colic (get the vet ASAP!) and summoned help. Once you’ve learned the signs, it doesn’t take long to spot the difference.
I can ride but I have never had the emotional connection with a horse - it is real enough to be lampooned in spaghetti westerns where some hero summons his horse, or mounts by leaping over their ass, piggyback style.
My ambition in life, however, is to own a donkey. Not to ride but just because I love them. Just to have a chilled companion who eats grass, makes very loud noise and occasionaly bites. What’s not to love?
Donkeys that I have met are cute and sweet and loving. When our mini-horse died, our donkey very obviously grieved. The vet told us, “Donkeys have soul.”
I forgot to reply to this. Horses know, especially rented-out horses, whether their rider knows what they’re doing, and if they get a don’t-know rider, many of them will take advantage: Refuse to move out, slam head down to graze, wander off on their own path, etc.
OTOH there are horses, like my late Nick, who can sense when their rider is frightened or hurting, and take extra care of them. Twice while out riding in a group, another rider got thrown, too far from the barn to walk back. Both times I switched horses with the dumpee, we rode back at a walk, and Nick carried his charge as if he understood how shaky they were. Even going along one of his favorite canter stretches he stayed quietly to a steady, sedate walk.
Non-horsepeople don’t realize just how attentive to us horses are, how perceptively they can read us, how slight the communication signals can be when horse and person trust each other, know each other’s body language. It’s also why rent-a-rocket plugs or old schoolies can be so “deaf” to rider commands – they’ve learned to tune the human out for their own protection. I knew one ancient mare who could make beginners cry with frustration, yet I could ride her bareback and take her into a canter from a standing start – because we knew each other and she could feel my request through soft cues.
Exactly this. I am at best an amateur at riding but I know you have only a few minutes after you mount the horse before the “Am I in charge, or is this human in charge” passes through the equine mind.
And as an inexperienced rider, you must recognise the horse’s decision on the matter. Or suffer the consequences. An experienced rider might convince the horse to change their mind. But not me, i just go with the horse’s decision.
I like horses. They are amongst the most intelligent domesticated species.
Incompetent Rider: Flops into saddle, yanks on reins, kicks horse’s flanks to get it going.
Horse: Oh, crap, one of those. Shutting down now.
Competent rider: Settles softly into saddle, gathers reins to light contact, wraps legs around horse’s barrel and squeezes lightly.
Horse: Ah, this one knows how to speak to me. Let’s go.
When I was in my teens, I went for several years to a school that had horses. One of the horses was a Percheron-Arab cross mare who behaved perfectly with, and would do all sorts of things for, advanced riders; and who was entirely safe with beginners, who she would take excellent care of, never making any sudden moves, and ambling along wherever she was supposed to go.
Intermediates, she ran away with: people not skilled enough to stop her, but good enough riders to stay on. You knew you were an intermediate when Chiquita ran away with you. She ran away with me on a trail ride – but not while I was still a beginner!
Not horse-related, but similar…I was on a solo bike trip down the CA coast a couple years ago and spent a night at a campground near San Simeon. In the morning I was just walking around the camp loop and heard some movement in one of the dumpsters. I poked my head over the top and there were three young raccoons in there with no way to get out. Clearly, they climbed in looking for food overnight but could not scale the sides to get back out.
Mean time, I could hear a front-loading garbage truck was making stops in the campground. I quickly found a branch on the ground and tossed it in the dumpster such that they had a way to climb out, which they immediately did. As they moved away they snarled at me, as expected. A couple minutes later and they would have had an uncomfortable ride to the dump, or worse. Poor little fellers. Anyway, that felt good and I had good Karma the rest of the trip!