Body Language

The Eyes Tell the Story

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We were out enjoying the day. Standing in the sun brought enough warmth to not notice the winter chill. Chaco settled into a nap, and I found just the spot to lay my hands on his warm winter coat and relax too. Without a care in the world, time seemed to stand still. I couldn’t get enough of the moment, so why cut it short? We savored it for quite a while.

After some time had passed, the faint sound of an approaching car interrupted our oasis. Seeing that we were slightly in the road, I asked Chaco to back up into the adjacent driveway. No sooner had I done that, that I realized it was the mail lady coming, and we were right next to the mailbox. As she pulled up to deliver the mail, the bumper of her car came within a few feet of us. Chaco just stood there non-chalantly, happy not to be exerting any unnecessary energy.

It was a new mail lady that day, and she asked me the name of my horse. I told her, and she said it had been a really long time since she had been around horses.

“His eyes, oh those eyes are so big and inviting,” she said. She couldn’t get over him and the softness in his eyes. I concurred with her. “Yes, they are. That’s why I could stand here all day.”

In that brief moment, Chaco’s presence brought her back to some long lost memories as I saw the verge of tears and emotion begin to well up inside her.

The task at hand, delivering mail, kept her from staying any longer. As she drove away, I marveled at how a stranger saw in Chaco what I saw. The eyes tell the story. Soft, gentle and relaxed.  That is a content horse.

What story is your horse’s eyes telling?

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Looking Right At You

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A riding instructor once told me, “If a horse looks right at you, they are asking you a question.”

Chaco in eastern Washington
These are the eyes of a horse asking you a question.

 

I hadn’t ever thought of it like that before, but from that moment forward every time a horse looked right at me, I stopped and paused in myself to see what they wanted. I just started assuming they wanted something from me, and I set out to figure out what it was.

One afternoon, after visiting my horse, I prepared to leave while he was eating his hay like he always did. I said goodbye to him and walked to my car, taking off my boots and putting my barn coat in the trunk. As I got into my car, I looked over at him and was surprised to find him staring right at me. He had left his food, which he never did, and pointed himself in my direction looking straight at me.

Since this was out of the ordinary, I knew he wanted something. I went back over to him and asked out loud what he wanted while I practiced relaxing and breathing. I checked for gut sounds. They were o.k. (No gut sounds means colic). I then put my hands on him and slowly searched for the spot where he would relax and close his eyes. Sure enough I found it on his right hip. Just barely touching with my hands, his closed eyes told the story. That was the spot. (This was also the spot he had fallen on several weeks earlier).

A chunk of time passed, and when he was done with me resting my hands on him, he licked and chewed, threw in a few yawns and went back to eating his hay. He had successfully communicated and got what he needed.

When your horse looks right at you, take a moment to see what they might be asking you. Allowing time to slow down, breath and observe your horses does wonders for communication. They just might surprise you. I’d love to hear what you learn.

Grazing Walks

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A horse’s digestive system was designed to eat a steady trickle of a variety of plants throughout the day. In modern horsekeeping it can be difficult to provide the same level of variety that a wild horse may see.

Consider taking your horse for grazing walks through the woods. You’ll be amazed at the variety of plants your horse will eat. Soon you’ll begin to be able to identify which plants your horse eats and which ones he doesn’t. This can give you insight into how he feels that day and what he needs.

When my second horse, Thunder first came, he ate every dandelion in sight on our walks through the woods. I researched dandelion, and it turned out it was a liver detoxifier. Given Thunder’s history,  it didn’t surprise me that he sought out dandelions. In the early days of his rehab I made a point to make sure he had his 10-15 minutes of dandelions several times each week.

Meanwhile, over the years I’ve noticed that my first horse, Chaco, will eat horsetail in small quantities. Horsetail is mildly toxic, and the vet said just don’t let him eat pounds of eat per day, but a few plants shouldn’t hurt. She also said it is rich in minerals and mildly anti-inflammatory. Another plant manual I read said it helps with connective tissue.

Our horses can’t speak to us in words, but they do speak to us all the time through their actions. It’s like decoding a mystery. The more time you spend with your horses and witness the decisions they make, the more the mystery of who they are unfolds before you.

Try a grazing walk through the woods with your horse. I’d love to hear what you learn.

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Thunder and Chaco enjoying their grazing walk through the woods.

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A Horse Won’t Hold Its Foot in the Air for You. Right?

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“Well, it’s not like the horse is going to hold their foot in the air for you to clean it out.”

This is a common assumption in human thinking. However, if you try on some “horse thinking”, all of a sudden the idea of a horse holding its foot in the air for you becomes completely reasonable and normal.

When it comes to cleaning the feet of a horse it’s a job that needs to be done, and as humans beings we are a predator (eyes in the front of the head, canine teeth for eating meat), and we are straight line thinkers. The quickest route from point A to point B is a straight line.

Contrast that with prey animals. Their eyes are more on the side of their head. They don’t have teeth for eating meat and their default is a meandering line, not a straight line. If a horse feels a straight line, that’s a big tip off to them that they’re being stalked by a predator and are about to be dinner.

Several years ago I used to volunteer with a horse therapy program for at-risk youth. One client I worked with was having trouble picking up the feet of her horse. She was so focused on getting a hold of the hoof that she would try, fail and then give up. She repeated this process so many times that soon the horse didn’t even bother to listen to her. The horse eventually kept all its weight solidly on the very foot she wanted to pick up. She was very much in straight line thinking. The horse was very much resisting.

I remember telling her to forget about picking up the foot. Instead look for a green light from the horse, no matter how tiny, like a shift of weight, and then pet the horse’s leg immediately. She did this several times. She got better at asking slowly so she could better sense the very beginning of when the horse started to cooperate. The moment the horse began to cooperate, she went to petting the horse’s leg. She did not care about what the foot was doing.

After several times of doing this, the horse decided to hold his foot in the air for just a moment. Amazed, she was about to grab it, thinking she could finally clean the foot.

I abruptly stopped her and said, “Resist the temptation to grab it. Instead, ignore it, and just pet the horse’s leg.”

She was able to over-ride her straight-line thinking, and just pet the horse’s leg. After a couple of times of this routine, the horse eventually held its foot relaxed in the air for several seconds, the longest he ever had. I knew he was ready for her to clean it out. And so she did, with complete continued cooperation from the horse.

Yes, you can get a horse to do things using straight line thinking. If the barn is burning down and you need the horse out of there now, straight line thinking will get the job done. But what if the barn isn’t burning down? What if there is no emergency? Then what would our interaction with them look like with a round about line, the kind of meandering line that horses spend the majority of their day doing?

This is where horses show us humans another world. If we have the patience and courage to enter their world and see it as they see it, a whole new experience unfolds before us. It’s where the magical moments with horses reside, where they want to be with you, and they want to interact with you of their own free will. Once you get a taste of a horse seeking you out, nothing can compare. It is heaven on earth.

A Rabbit, Cat, Eagle, Horse and Human Converge

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It was another typical day with my horses. As I was feeding in the morning, I noticed the barn cat in the yard, a regular hunter of mice and rabbits. About an hour later he took up a perch near the top of the driveway next to the road. I found that unusual, but didn’t think anything of it. I haltered my horse, Chaco, to take him for a walk, and as I walked him up the driveway I noticed a rabbit in a frozen position, his hind legs stuck in the fence. I assumed he was dead and figured the cat would eventually have him for lunch.

Chaco and I took our time at the top of the driveway, sort of curious and at the same time not wanting to look too closely at a dead rabbit. While we were at the top of the driveway trying to figure out why the cat hadn’t done anything yet, we heard a commotion in the neighboring maple tree and the sound of big gusts of air. Suddenly, overhead, just 15 feet above us, were the huge yellow-gold claws of a bald eagle. It startled both Chaco and I. Wow! Those claws and legs were huge. I had no idea.

With the eagle gone we continued down the road for our walk. Upon our return the bald eagle was standing in the grass cautiously walking very slowly toward the dead rabbit when the cat came out hissing with its back arched and hair raised. The eagle started to posture and then flapped his wings, moving back a few steps. Undeterred, the cat did not back down and the eagle left the rabbit where it was, stuck in the fence.

About an hour later I was about to leave when Chaco left his hay and walked to the far end of his paddock and pointed his body in the direction of the dead rabbit. This was unusual behavior for him so I stood with him watching the dead rabbit. As I stood there I asked, “What are you trying to tell me? Is the rabbit alive?” Sure enough, after a couple of minutes of watching the rabbit, I saw what Chaco saw. There was a twitch of the rabbit’s nose. The rabbit was alive!

I knew then that I needed to unhook this rabbit from the fence, and hopefully he would hop off. As I looked for a way to loosen the wire, Chaco watched me intently everywhere I went. I found a shovel and scooped up the rabbit’s front legs and gave him a little push backwards, and he was free!

However, to my disappointment, he didn’t hop off. I put a drop of Rescue Remedy on the end of a piece of straw and touched his ears with it, hoping that maybe that might bring some energy back to him. And yet, I also saw the injury to his hind leg, and perhaps that was why he was not hopping off. There was nothing more I could do. Even the wildlife rehabilitation center I contacted agreed. With sadness in my heart, I told the rabbit I was sorry. I knew what was coming.

Within hours the eagle won, and the rabbit was no where to be found. The cat went back to hunting mice, and Chaco had gone back to eating his hay. And me, I wanted a happier ending, but I also respected that the rabbit was a wild animal and part of the cycle of life where life and death coexist. Mother nature took its course, and I was the only witness to the convergence of this rabbit, cat, eagle and horse.

Too Much Touch?

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When I took in my second senior horse to rehab, Thunder, he did not want to be touched.  He preferred to walk away rather than be groomed.  If you stayed in his space he would nudge you away with his nose.  He made it clear he needed space, and lots of it.

He had just retired from eight years as a therapy horse for at-risk youth doing a wonderful job taking care of and teaching the kids.  The work, however, did not come without a price.  He wore out, and he made it increasingly clear his last year on the job that he wanted to retire.

The first year he was in my care I rarely touched him.  About nine months in, he would let me brush his legs while he took a nap in the field, but don’t touch his belly.  If I tried to brush his belly he would walk off.

Today, three years later, he lets me brush all of him, and he even shows me his spots he wants scratched.  It’s me who gets tired of scratching him, and I want to stop.  It takes a long time before he decides he’s had enough scratching.  This is a huge change from when he arrived three years ago.

What’s the secret to this change?  If he walked off, I let him.  I may have had an idea to brush him a particular day, but if he said no by walking off, then I respected that.  Once he knew he could say no, and I would respect that no, then he started saying no less often.

Now I’m starting to see the yes when he puts his hips in my hands to scratch him.  Because I have allowed him to walk off, I am thrilled when he decides to stay.  That is his yes.  It’s been three years in the making, and it’s a wonderful thing to have straight from the horse’s mouth.

Thunder getting his scratching.
Thunder getting his scratching.

Reading the Eyes

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When I first got back into horses several years ago, I remember learning how to train horses.  One evening my teacher and I were working with a green* pony on some groundwork exercises. I remember her saying, “Do you see the change in the eyes?  When the eyes soften, we stop the exercise.”

I’m looking at this pony’s eyes as we’re doing the exercise.  They were big and dark, and I remember thinking, “Ok, I see the eyes, but I don’t see the change.”  This was one of my very first lessons in training horses, and at the time, it was too subtle for me to recognize.

Today, after years of experience, I see the change.  In rehabbing old horses, often times they come with distant, withdrawn eyes.  Healthy horses are curious by nature, and when you look at their eyes they are engaged.  Sometimes you will hear people describe curious eyes as being bright.  My long-term goal in rehabbing old horses, is for them to have bright curious eyes and engaged with life.

Practice observing horses’ eyes.  Are their eyes drawing you in, or is there a wall between you and them?  The eyes can tell you a lot about a horse before you ever touch them.

Today, as I rehab old horses, I get to see the change in their eyes from withdrawn and distant to bright and curious.  It doesn’t happen overnight, but given the right environment, diet and exercise, it will happen.  And in a senior horse who has given years of service to humans, it’s wonderful to see them come back to life.

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Thunder’s eyes in his first year of rehab.

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Thunder’s eyes after three years of rehab.

*green means a horse who has just started training

Connection Without Touching

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The second senior horse I took in, Thunder, did not want to be touched or groomed when he first came.  He had just retired from eight years as a therapy horse, and I think he was done with being touched.

Once a week I brushed him just to check his coat.  Other than that, I didn’t touch him.  To the naked eye, you would think that I didn’t love Thunder.  But the opposite was true.  I cared so much about his long-term well-being that I respected his current need not to be touched.  I figured eventually he would touch me, rather than me touch him.

One morning after I had finished feeding all the horses, I realized I was tired and really wanted to take a nap.  I was about to drive home to do that when I remembered I had a foam camping mat in the trunk of my car.  It was a beautiful day, and I saw Thunder taking a nap under the trees.  I got my foam mat, and headed to the same grove of trees.

So as not to inadvertently put any pressure on Thunder, I  kept my distance and ignored him as I walked by to find a tree off the beaten path for my nap.  As I set up my mat, Thunder left his own napping spot and started walking toward me.  I continued to ignore him, curious to see what he had in mind without any interference from me.  To my surprise, he stopped 15 feet away (10-15 feet is a horse’s sense of personal space).  Facing me, he cocked a hind leg in relaxation and took a nap.

I was honored.

He didn’t want to be touched, but he did want connection.  For months he taught me about all the communication that goes on among horses before they ever physically touch each other.  It was a whole new experience.  Then it dawned on me, this horse that didn’t want to be touched was sharing something far more important with me: his experience of his world.

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Thunder in his grove of trees.

 

Petting Animals

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I go for regular walks through the country neighborhood with my horses.  A few times a year we cross paths with a young boy who lives nearby.  He’s fascinated by my horse, Chaco, and wants to pet him.  One particular afternoon I suggest that he approach Chaco at his shoulder, but don’t look directly in his eyes.  (A straight on approach is the move a predator would make.  Prey animals, like horses, feel safer with a less direct approach).  Instead come up alongside him with your eyes looking past him, then see if you can pet his shoulder.

The boy reached out his hand with his eyes averted, and in his exuberance, pet Chaco with short, quick strokes.  I watched Chaco’s eyes, and they were big and held open.  They indicated stress to me.  He was tolerating being touched.

I suggested to the boy to pet slower.  Way slower.  As best as a little boy can, he pet Chaco with his version of slower, which was still fairly quick, and Chaco’s eyes stayed big.  I then suggested he pet Chaco even slower, as if he were a slug.  Slower…  Slower…  Even slower…  How slow can you go and still call it petting?  And then Chaco’s eyes started to change.  He blinked.  His eyes softened.  He no longer held them wide open.  In relaxation, he dropped his head slightly and curled his neck around the boy, breathing on him in acknowledgment.  (Horses breathe into each other nostrils as a greeting).

The boy was thrilled.  Yes, he wanted to pet Chaco, but perhaps more than that, he wanted to connect with this big animal and be seen.  He received more than he expected, and was soon saying goodbye to us and bounding down the road.

Petting animals is so common place as humans, but how often do we read the body language of the animal to see if how we are touching feels good to them?  Watching the eyes is a great first place to start.  Blinking = yes.  Fixed eyes = no.  (Try holding your own eyes open with no blinking for 30 seconds.  It’s stressful).

Learning to read the eyes will open lines of communication between you and your animal friend.  Many times, just moving considerably slower ourselves, and even consciously breathing while touching will bring about a whole new level of understanding.

What is your experience with petting your animals?