“I am not sure why horse people are especially prone to doing things the most difficult way possible, but it’s a habit that dies hard,” she said. Agreed. I hope we’re the worst, but it is an addictive habit. Edgar Rice Burro thinks it’s just our normal condition. Actually, he puts it this way: you’re only human.
She’s a woman in one of my classes who posted two videos, one not following my advice and one following it. This woman has a great sense of humor and a chestnut Arabian mare, the former being a requirement for the latter. Her goal was to put a saddle pad on her new mare at liberty. Smart, mares will take a choice if you don’t give them one.
In the first video, the mare had some anxiety and walked off. It’s a fair response, not a refusal. She just needs a moment. When horses have anxiety, walking relieves that anxiety. Consider it a calming signal. Asking a flight animal to stand still is an open question if you are not willing to tie her to a post or punish her for being a horse.
My advice was to trade one calming signal for another. If she could ease her anxiety with a hay bag, would she be able to stand at liberty? Chewing releases the jaw and poll, also calming. The mare stood beautifully, engaged with her human and munching away. Demonstrating the miraculous power of stillness I embody while eating popcorn during a thrilling movie. Besides, working a horse on an empty stomach is asking for gastric upsets. An effortless win-win. Or is it too easy?
“What is the big deal about hanging a hay bag?” says Edgar. He is the voice of common sense on the farm. I always bring him in for the big existential questions. About now, his ears fall wide. He’s always right. When you think of it as stress eating replacing stress walking, it makes all kinds of sense. And it isn’t teasing with sugar or causing obesity. At best, it’s lunch a bit early.
Our farrier is grateful we hang hay bags. He wishes everyone would. And we avoid separation anxiety by, wait for it… Not separating them. Our Edgar is old and has weak fetlocks. Trims worry him and he likes his friends there snacking with him. And here I go, spoiling the entire herd, a stern voice in my head asserts. I don’t listen.
Our mare doesn’t believe in trimming four hooves. Three is plenty for her. But everyone has a reason. Youngsters are impatient. No horse loves a death grip on the lead rope. And some horses are owned by people who think it would ruin their horse to be comfortable for trimming. That having a horse is like keeping a good kid in detention after school, just in case, just for good measure.
Edgar has no patience for people who overwork anyone. He says it’s bad enough that humans do everything the hard way, but do we have to ask our animals to do the same?
I try to explain us to him. Maybe it’s our ego? We surely do love showing off. I suggest that sometimes things get harder because of indecision and overthinking. That yes-or-no game where we become disabled by poisonous self-talk. Edgar nods agreeably, giving me a knowing eye. He’s seen me do that. Other times it’s as if we need to prove our manhood, taught by people who were experts, or so we thought. As if kindness destroys horses.
And some say that doing hard things can help people become more resilient. That suffering makes us stronger. Personally, I think I’ve learned everything I need to by doing it the hard way. It gave me the opposite of confidence and a few scars.
“Little Ears,” Edgar says. He calls me that pet name sometimes. “You humans are so consumed with false fear and self-judgment. It’s written all over your bodies. Don’t humans know we have enough of our own stresses in life and could use a break when we’re with you?”
I nod at his wisdom. He can tell me this now because I’m less defensive of my inadequacies and easier to get along with. More likely to scratch an ear. I had to let go of my whining and worry around horses. I was miserable, no one was nickering, and something had to go. Either my horses or my inner railbird, always criticizing me and talking trash until I couldn’t utter a word of praise to my horses, and least of all, myself.
I had to stop bad-mouthing myself. It was a habit like biting nails. Instead, I pursed my lips and looked at the sky. I thought of something I did successfully. Some days, it was that I didn’t poke anyone in the eye. It was a negative success, but it still counted. Around animals, I taught myself to say “good” even if things were coming apart, to remind us of who we are. Slowly, a new habit took over.
Is there some point where we age out on doing it the hard way? Can we just award ourselves a get-out-of-jail-free card?
My grandmother, well into her eighties, got into trouble one day. An aunt dropped by when she and Grandpa were eating lunch, pizza from the freezer and homemade chokecherry wine. The horrible news burned through the family like a rumor of an unwed pregnancy. This German woman made her own sausage, for crying out loud. Now she was eating tasteless crumbles on a cardboard crust. And drinking in broad daylight. Was it time for a nursing home?
Humans really do jump to the worst conclusion. I cheered Grandma on. She was still a strict taskmaster, but a sip of wine was all the better for an afternoon nap. It’s not like she was doing secret scientific research for the government. For all the soups, roasts, and chocolate chip cookies that woman made, she deserved an easy lunch. Maybe they were celebrating something.
Casting stones at others to disguise our insecurities. Aspiring to be a perfectionist in an imperfect world. Feeling the silent criticism of others when it’s really our own voice. Trying to score karma points by suffering. These are unique traits in the animal world. Just us. Do we think it makes us better than dogs or donkeys or, God forbid, chestnut mares?
Edgar Rice Burro shakes out his poll, flipping his ears from side to side, as his prodigious lips follow the sway. He says, “But do they know they are at liberty and can walk it off? That we aren’t asking them to be perfect?”
…
Relaxed and Forward Training by Anna Blake is no longer on Facebook because of repeated hacking. If you or your horse appreciate my writing, please share, subscribe to this blog, or join me at The Barn School or Substack.
The Barn School, is a social and educational site, along with member sharing and our infamous Happy Hour. Anna teaches courses like Calming Signals and Affirmative Training. Everyone’s welcome.
Want more? Become a sustaining member, a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with affirmative demonstration videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, free participation in “group lessons”, and live chats with Anna. Become part of the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.
Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.
Ride for a new brand, find our Relaxed & Forward and Undomesticated Women swag at Zazzle.
I loved listening to ERB defining our foibles. I know Peggy is going to be thrilled to read it later this morning.
He is the brains in the bunch. Thanks, Chaz. Hope you are both well.
How in the world do you hit on EVERYTHING?
And every time???
Thank Edgar Rice Burro for me would you?
Happy to. Thanks, Ellen. It’s that we’ve been together for so long.
Edgar! Edgar! He’s our man!
Thanks, Peggy.
Quite possibly one of your best posts ever. Cheers
Cindy
Thanks, Cindy.
Just goes to prove – we need to listen to the long-ears! My life is lacking because I never met even one!!
Maggie, that’s tragic. At least you had a horse, and some dogs and cats. They have done you well…
Boy did I need to hear this today. Needed to get out of my self-depreciating head space. Perfect timing. Thanks Anna.
Edgar was glad to oblige, and me, too. Thanks, Dee
Oh how long it has taken for me to stop listening to those who think I should “make” my very well behaved mare be better “behaved”. Thanks to you, Anna, I finally have the courage and patience to tell them she is really trying to stand still on 3 arthritic legs…and that they just need to chill and wait for her to figure it out. And oh how far that goes with my mare!!!
Thank you always for reminding us of what is important.
Good for you and how arrogant of them. Thanks, Cathy.
Love this!!
Thanks,Karen
Once upon a time, you wrote: “sometimes we are the only predator left to help the horse” . . . or something like that. I cling to that phrase like a lone spar in the ocean today. Know that you have, once again, done some good for a horse and a human.
Oh Sue. Yes, I said that, especially about elder horses. Best wishes to you.
Loved this essay…I try to do everything without using halter and rope, everything except fly spray (even on a rag, sprayed where Cricket can’t hear the spray) I know it’s the smell, no hay bag or alfalfa tub changes this. Is there a way?
Thanks, Nancy. Maybe use a neck ring and transfer from there, but take lots of time?? Just a guess.
ERB is so very wise, and I’m glad he is still alive and dispensing that wisdom. Yes, why do we continue to want to do things the hard way ? I think ERB is correct when he says it’s a human habit.
As you well know, I use hay nets a LOT to get through what might be an otherwise challenging time with my horses, e.g. farrier appointments. Cash has NO PROBLEM whatsoever as long as there is a hay net ! His current farrier initially PROTESTED ( why I never knew) about that but Cash educated her quickly on the inadvisability of a hay net ban by either bolting or walking away, refusing to pick up his feet, and so forth.
I had not considered before this essay that chewing on hay might be a calming signal replacement for leaving the scene ( which we don’t want when trimming hooves). Thanks, Anna, for keeping on keeping on, and educating through your humor and writing skills.
Thanks, Sarah. I just love that moment when an equine pro learns something… Good boy, Cash.
Love how this turned out. I needed some elder ERB wisdom for sure!
Thanks, Megan. He’s a genius.
Cheers to Edgar and your grandmother. I guess she had it right in her eighties not wasting any time making pizza from scratch. I guess if you have made it that far, a frozen pizza ain’t gonna kill you. And who needs karma points at that point?
Thanks for making us smile, think, and always nailing it 🙂
Exactly. Thanks Susanne.
I so want to send this to my vet and hoof trimmer so they know it’s not just me who thinks this is a more perfect union.
It’s just silly not to… Good luck, Michelle
Thank you again, Anna, for reminding us that it’s OK to be the flawed humans that we all are. And for telling us that doing things the easy way is not spoiling our horses. I’ve been spoiling my horses for ages, keeping them together when I trim their hooves, and when I added hanging Hay bags throughout the process, everyone was even more thrilled! I let my horses eat when we’re on trail rides, as a reward and now because it keeps some food in their stomach, which I learned from you is so important. While I always hung a hay bag in the trailer when I took my horses somewhere, they now get a small bucket full of chopped alfalfa hay as a sort of Tums to defend against ulcers. I am doing most of the training of my young horse Cat out on the trail, because he doesn’t like working in the arena. I want him to be happy, curious, and forward, and I can teach him everything he needs to know out on the trail . I’m not spoiling my horses, I’m just trying to make life easier for them, and me.
Well done, Rebecca. It’s building a peaceful herd.
Wonderful!
Thanks, Anne
Love this essay, Anna. At our barn, it’s been the guys on the outside sticking their heads through the window while waiting their turn to come inside for their trim. One time while one of the herd was having an acupuncture session inside, fully relaxed with eyes closed, Dover – the “Houdini” – unlocked a stall door from the outside; then brought his buddy with him as they barged their way to the aisleway “operating room.” I don’t know what prompted the invasion. Were the two intruders having an anxiety attack?
It’s a fundamental; horses stick together. Usually the separation anxiety happens with the one we pull out, but often the ones left feel it too. Sign of a tight herd and that’s a good thing, Lynell. And Edgar is famous for opening gates when certain horses are separated from him.
Perfectly crafted. I seem to need a constant reminder. Thank you for sharing Edgar’s voice! I love the paragraph about ego and proving something, the why of doing the hard thing. But even when we know the drill, why is the easy way so hard to make a habit? Maybe it’s me. But I’m old, looking for easy ways all the time in the house. That might be key: easy for me is one thing and I’ve been trying to learn how to listen to what is easy for them for what feel like ages. BTW, Jazbur, Diego and Radley concur with Edgar and, [leg scratch] “humans are a little slow in a fast way.” Fast is a reserved option for burros when only a buck or kick will get an opinion across. Finally, I love your understanding of this as something you’ve experienced for yourself. It helps to know there’s hope I might get there in some measure someday.
Thanks, Minna. Donkeys are the masterclass. You are doing well.
“Just us.” Once again, great writing. Collaborating with a Bey Gelding, a few ponies, an owl, geese and raptors, crows and finches. We enjoy the sunsets together.
Thanks, Paula. That sounds perfect.