I always thought of grooming as part of the warm-up for the ride. It’s the price paid up front, a thank you in advance. I spent hours currying and brushing, trimming fetlocks and conditioning tails. My horses stood quietly ground-tied to get their ears clipped and their chins trimmed. I cared for them as a meditation; an affirmation of the love and respect I had for my horse and our partnership. No one died. Without exception, my horses looked better than I did. I was taught proper grooming by the same wonderful, knowledgeable trainers who taught me to ride patiently and train by listening. We were not monsters; we were proud of our horses, followed traditions, and did what was required or advised. And scientifically, we were still in the dark ages.
This week, the FEI, (Fédération Équestre Internationale), the international governing body of equestrian sports, has banned whisker trimming under penalty of disqualification. Hooray!
Whiskers and other facial hair around the eyes are known as vibrissae. They are critical to a horse’s spatial awareness. Horses are unable to see objects directly in from of their eyes or below their nose, and whiskers are a sensory organ used to process information, including finding food, communicating calming signals, and environmental awareness such as wind direction. The highly tactile whiskers have blood-filled sacs at their base to amplify movement. They help foals find the teat after birth and have also been found to compensate for compromised vision
There isn’t much scientific data on removing these sensory hairs on horses, but it has been studied in other mammals like rats, dogs, and cats and found to be debilitating. A large part of the brain is devoted to processing nerve impulses from vibrissae in some species. It isn’t a stretch to assume similarities with horses and see it as a welfare issue.
The USA lodged concerns about implementing the recent FEI decision. Many riding disciplines and breed organizations here have a tradition of clipping. Germany banned hairless muzzles in 1998, and many of us stopped back then as well. When we know more, we can change our ways for the better. Breaking tradition is progress, and a version of political correctness exists in the horse world. Are you feeling just a bit superior that you never trimmed them in the first place? Good for you.
When I read scientific research, sometimes I need to sit with it to comprehend the words. It seems that these extremely sensitive vibrissae are hairs that have the qualities of eyes and fingers at the same time. Isn’t that miraculous? Muzzles are certainly the most sensitive part of their bodies. Humans don’t have vibrissae so we can only guess what that level of sensitivity feels like. Some horses react to us touching like it’s a raw nerve, and for others, touching seems to shut them down. Some horses get stuck in hyper-arousal and others act like they’re ticklish. And we like to tickle their noses.
Please think about that. I use the example of getting tickled to explain to humans about calming signals that are an internal conflict causing anxiety. It’s an emotional incongruence. Most humans hate being tickled but we still laugh when it isn’t funny, as a way of releasing anxiety. Laughter is a human calming signal.
It’s important to be aware as aware of these sensory organ hairs as we are their eyes or ears when reading calming signals and communicating with horses.
Can we extrapolate a bit? Humans have always had a knack for exploiting a horse’s weak areas to control them. No wonder that huge twelve-hundred-pound horses are immobilized by twitching their nose or ear. Conversely, it’s logical that a horse would be safer and more confident with whiskers in competition and on the trail. Yay, we learned something. We have a choice to work in unison with a horse or use domination in training.
Is there a difference between a horse using their vibrissae to sense us, when we’re standing too close for them to see us clearly, and us touching their muzzle habitually? Many of us touch our horse’s muzzle without noticing. Each time a vibrissa is stimulated, it sends an alert to the horse brain at a rate of 250 mph. Did you mean to yell? We assume they’re greeting us so we return the touch as if shaking hands, but should we? If we all agree that clipping whiskers are detrimental enough to be banned, why do we have so little compassion for horses as to mangle their most sensitive noses? Should we keep our hands off their faces and put a quiet hand on their neck or bury our noses in their manes instead?
I constantly see horse lovers and even professionals, standing face to snout with horses, unconsciously tweaking noses, adjusting their forelocks for no reason, and just generally fussing with the horse’s face. Invariably the horse is showing subtle calming signals like dead eyes, trying to communicate that the human is too close, but we’re too busy loving them to notice. When the horse closes his eyes, it’s easier to think he is bonding in some mystical way than pulling inside to escape the attack we aren’t aware we’ve launched.
And that’s how it happens that a horse lover with the best intentions might groom their horse to a shine, clipping every errant hair. We don’t do it because we’re monsters. We don’t know any better, or we don’t think it through from the horse’s side. We follow traditions rather than science. We lollygag in our frontal cortex, telling ourselves stories, forgetting that a horse’s brain is focused on survival. While we sing love songs, they eternally ask if they’re safe. It’s unflattering to us to think in terms of predator and prey, but horses are hardwired for nothing else. We think we’re initiating a conversation but might we be doing the opposite?
Here’s an experiment: Stand at your horse’s shoulder, facing the same direction he is and in his direct line of view. Notice any change in his face or poll. Exhale and find stillness in the earth. Think of it as asking a question with your body, and then leaving a vacuum for your horse to answer. Every horse will respond differently according to experience and confidence. If it’s a change for the two of you, they’ll show some anxiety by moving, but hold to the experiment. Notice how much you want to touch his nose. It was the hardest habit to change for me. I had to use my pockets.
Then give your horse the confidence that you won’t clip away his sensory organs, but more than that, that you will respect that most sensitive area. No matter how much you want to touch his velvet nose or kiss that adorable snip of white on his muzzle, try to understand it from your horse’s side. Then make a conscious choice.
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Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward
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A lot to think about, Anna. And it all makes so much sense. Just comparing a horse’s muzzle & whiskers to a cat’s. We would never dream of clipping a cats whiskers (at least I dont think most people would) but in doing so to a horse? I never clipped Chico’s but saw it done all over the barn where I boarded. Good that the FEI has taken a step in the right direction – there ARE more to be taken there & in other disciplines. Thats a start – someone is thinking!
I think it’s important to cheer the FEI for this. Keep working for welfare issues, certainly. But we need to let them know when they get it right, just like affirmative training for our horses and dogs. Cats? Who knows, but don’t clip their whiskers. 🙂
No I’ve never clipped a whisker and grooming for aesthetics is nonexistent on my priority list. That said, I’m guilty of the frontal assault….but no more! Something else for this flawed human to work on changing. As usual, thanks Anne and my horses thank you too!
I noticed that leaving out one was easier than the other… Thanks Sueann
I doubt the FEI ruling will have much effect in a country where we still brand foals because “it’s tradition and advertising,” as it was explained to me when I asked why we’re still doing that in a world of microchips. And it’ll have to get in line behind the soring and rollkur issues. But we’ll get there, thanks to voices of reason like yours. Thanks!
It’s slow progress, but that is how things change. We are the ones in charge of change, so we inch along. Horses.
Wonderful read! Thanks for writing this. I’m going to try standing next to my horse’s shoulder when I go out to see them this morning, and will not touch their faces (difficult-I plan to use my pockets).
Pockets are my only hope… thanks, Susan
This is good information and such a timely blog with the recent ruling. Seems we keep uncovering layers underneath layers of how unconsciously we have done a disservice to our horses !! Love that we can count on you to be the HORSE advocate.
It’s an about-face for me. As a trainer, I thought I had the right to touch a horse any way I wanted to. The “problem” with listening to horses is that you hear things you don’t want to. I also think it’s our chance to evolve our relationship with horses to a place we don’t know is possible. Thanks, Sarah.
My horse says hello to me by reaching out and lightly touching me with his muzzle. I just let him do it. It’s like he’s checking me out and acknowledging me. Another thing he seems to enjoy is having me vigorously scratch the rough part of his upper lip. I scratch with my finger tips and he leans into it. I guess that kind of stimulation is enjoyable. He’s an ottb, and had a horrible cribbing problem when I got him. Living outside cured that quickly, but maybe the lip stimulation is similar to the cribbing high. Who knows?
The history of cribbing means chronic gastric issues in the past. Might he have nerve damage? What would happen if you scratched his wither instead?? I ask because cribbing is stereotyping, meaning when horses do abnormal things as a normal habit (like cribbing in the past) then the anxiety is still there. If he has traded cribbing for hyperstimulating his nose, stay aware. Best wishes. Thanks, Julia
I loved this read today. I thought to each of my 3 horses and how they respond to my touch. And so much clicked into place. My old man, I lovingly rub a circle with the back of a finger on his cheek; my mare get a scratch under the chin; and my feisty 4 year old gets my hand “ruffling” his muzzle as one would the head of a toddler. AGH!!!! and then I wonder why he acts like said toddler!!! Today I will ask for his forgiveness, shove my hands in my pockets until I am safely at his side, then scratch the sweet spot on his withers..
Thank you for this…. nuggets like this are treasures!
Chuckling. That’s learning in hindsight, just the way I figure things out. Thanks, Kim.
This is the first time — I think! — you have devoted an entire essay to whisker trimming and our frontal assault on our horses. I do recall pastimes where you have mentioned resisting the urge to mess with their muzzles and since then I have made a concerted effort to comply. Now instead I will stand at a hind leg (akin to preparing to pick a foot out) and place an arm across their rump for a short hug. It works for me. I hope it works for them, too?
The other thing I wanted to mention: I always thought that when your horse picked his head up upon seeing you while grazing it was a positive sign of acknowledgement. But then I read from you that the ideal is that your horse should keep grazing, oblivious to your presence. It took me a long time to wrap my head around that, but then I started being “ignored.” I get it now, and it’s pretty cool! Thanks, Anna!
Most horses watch the environment in the passive grazing position. He is not ignoring, he can’t! But it is really intimate when they watch with their heads down, I love it so much I wrote a poem about it. It is that cool! and I just always wonder about the contradiction of clipping vs touching whiskers. But my mentor had an absolute opinion and I hated it. She was right.
Well what do you know – thats how Chico would react – keep right on grazing! Guess it was good he “ignored” me! Learn something new every time I read this – blog AND comments.
Yes, Maggie. “Nothing to fear here,” he considered you part of the herd!!
Another layer of what truly respecting the horse means. When we know better we MUST do better! Sometimes what the horse tells us is not what we want to hear. Thanks Anna
Thanks, Karen. It is hard to acknowledge anxiety when it seems to flattering behavior.
Amen! Thank you.
Thanks, Kate
Oh absolutely… picture the armless human, hands straightjacketed in pockets, having face and muzzle vibrissed and lipbbled by a sightless horse… it tickles to death, eyes shut instinctively, trying not to pull away, breathing along, trusting… yeah I kinda get what they feel about our hands and lips on their muzzles.
Can you say vulnerable?? Great comment, Prita
Glad to see whisker trimming banned. Small steps of humanity and kindness.
One at a time, we are getting better. Thanks, Nancy
I get it, I totally understand what is necessary in order to respect the equine’s personal space and way of being……then why do I think that I will need to undergo shock therapy to change my bad habits consistently? A curious horse walks up and reaches his nose toward me and my knee jerk response is I should reach out to him, on the all too often occasion when I can’t seem to harness my brain power over emotional response. Will I ever get there Anna?
Laurie, your horse thinks you will.
Bless you for saying so. I hope you’re right.
(I saw the video.)
I have one horse who puts his muzzle right on my lips and wants me to blow raspberries on his nose. He loves it, and routinely initiates the encounters. I guess he’s an exception to the rule.
Thanks, Maureen. There are so few exceptions; I’d love to see a video.
I feel sad in a selfish way and then happy that I’ve learned something new.
It’s no fun to be a meany, but in the same way you mention, sad and happy from me, too. Thanks, Lissa