I went riding today. Almost broke my foot cleaning hooves. The mare’s leg came down fine, but she shifted her weight and decided to treat me to a few seconds of using my toes to displace it. I got her off without any trouble, so no real harm done other than a bit of a swollen foot.
Of course, it wasn’t her fault. When you’re dealing with an animal that weighs a ton you have to be prepared for things of that nature to happen every once in a while. They’re large animals and working around them requires vigilance. Even the quietest of horses can do some pretty unexpected things, especially if you’re not their primary owner and they haven’t formed a significant bond with you. She was just moving her head to get some flies off of her and stepped to her left. My foot just happened to be there is all.
That said, I took her out and down to the river without a martingale on her. Being that it’s been raining pretty good the last few days the river was pretty high, up to my mid calf in the saddle. She wasn’t too fond of the depths that we were venturing into and had some fun thrashing her head around, especially back towards me. Given my sort of luck it’s a miracle that her poll or crest didn’t come completely back at me, knock me senseless, and end up with me floating face down in the river.
But that’s what I love about horses – it’s all about respect. Within five minutes of getting on a horse it usually has you figured out and knows what it can get away with and what it can’t. Don’t get me wrong, in a perfect situation there’s a symbiosis between horse and rider that transforms them into a single entity. But unless you have a personal relationship with a horse, not unlike your own dog, then it becomes a matter of subtle assertion and the translation of confidence. If you’re unable to translate that to a horse when you mount it then you’re in for trouble – which is why a lot of people that don’t ride horses very often overcompensate by either being too aggressive or emoting fear – the latter being something that horses are acutely aware of and quite often makes them extremely uneasy.
Anyway, it wasn’t her fault. She started thrashing, I used a little too much contact being that I was riding with a loop rein for the first time, and she responded like any creature would that has a metal bit in its mouth. In that sort of situation you do one of two things – you panic or you use a combination of assertiveness and calm, which might sound like a contradiction but is far from contradictory when it comes to dealing with a horse that’s skittish, afraid, or just plain uncomfortable.
Horses are amazing creatures. They’re walking, breathing time machines. When you get on one and head into the mountains or out into back country their predominance throughout human history hits you like a ton of bricks. Mankind has spent more time on the backs of horses than anything else, and the connection between us is, perhaps, one of the most spiritually tangible.
A friend once told me that when he has was becoming a farrier they leaned using the legs of dead horses. Some of them had died of natural causes, some were deformed, but the majority of them, some 90%, were the legs of race horses that had been put down because they had sustained injuries. “An old truck would pull up to the back of the school filled with horse legs.” he told me. “If a picture of that was ever published people would be outraged.”
Most race horses start racing as two-year-olds at a time when their bones haven’t properly formed. That being the case, leg injuries aren’t uncommon, but given that they’re primarily viewed as investments, keeping them around isn’t something that’s usually considered realistic if they require significant medical treatment so that they can go on to live normal lives off the track. Most race horses are considered in their prime between three and five, with some racing until they’re ten – but that doesn’t alter the fact that in the world of horse racing they’re pretty much viewed as commodities. Winning keeps a horse relevant, injury is commonly a death sentence.
For me, that’s a hard thing to even contemplate when I’m riding. Even more, when I spend time in a pasture with horses who curiously approach, looking to be given attention. One of the most important experiences, in my opinion anyway, is to step into their realm first before you even get on one. To venture out into a field in which they’re free to roam and eat, play and roll around in the dirt. That initial interaction will either seal the deal or send you hurriedly on your way. If it’s the latter, it’s not only a loss for you, but ultimately for them as well.