Why Do We Love Our Horses ?

Why Do We Love Our Horses


What does your horse and the myriad things that goes along with them have to do with how you feel about them? And what does being with your horse have to do with the feelings that they elicit when you are with them?
I have owned a horse for most of the time that I have been on this planet. Remarkably I am the only one in my family of five kids that has had “the horse bug”. And I have had it since I was a young child. I am fifty years old as I write this and still my family insists that there’s something odd about my devotion to these creatures that have been so much a part of my life for so very long.
I remember the morning of my fifth birthday when my Grandfather said to me that he had something for me out in the truck. But that I had to eat my pancakes before I could go out and see what it was. As I said, I am fifty years old, but that morning is so impressed into my mind that I remember the small and unimportant detail of having pancakes for breakfast.
Can you imagine my complete and total surprise when the shaggy little Shetland pony that he had hauled to the farm came jumping out of the old panel truck? My Grandfather had gotten up early and went and picked up this little black and white fur ball before breakfast.
That’s the defining moment that the lifelong affair with horses started for me. I was astonished to be sure, I mean I had hinted for a pony, but what little girl doesn’t? My Grandparents were not rich people and I can’t imagine the financial burden it must have put on them.
But I had a PONY! My very own pony ! I was in love. Little did I know that horses would become the love of my life, for the rest of my life.
Ok, so now we know how I got started in the horse world, but what about you? What is it that has fascinated me for all these years? What is it that fascinates you?
For me, it’s when I get to the barn and step out of the truck, just like you the first thing that I notice is the various smells of horses. The delightfully sweet smells of baled hay, the leather in the tack room, saddle soap, horse sweat and yes, even the manure.
It’s an automatic tranquilizer for me. The tension in my shoulders that seems to always be present disappears. The troubles of the day and the current problems that abound in my life go to auto pilot somewhere in the back of my head. The annoying little minutia of everyday life is forgotten in the knowledge that there is someone waiting for me that I love to be with. Someone that I cherish every single moment with.
I know that she is not there to judge me, she’ll listen to everything that I have to say to her without interupting me and she lets me concentrate and works with me to show me the improvements that we make together.
It begins with going out into the pasture with my lead rope in hand and a treat in my pocket. At the farm where I keep her the average pasture is about fifty acres and sometimes, due to the hills, I can’t even see her out there. But I put on my happy face and begin the walk. It’s amazing when I think that if I had to walk this far across a parking lot to go shopping I would stay home instead.
When I can see the herd of mares grazing peacefully in the short brown grass of a Tennessee winter, it elicits feelings that I have a hard time describing.
I call out to her and up pops her head, she answers me with a whinny and begins to meet me somewhere in the middle. While searching my pockets for a bit of carrot or a peppermint candy that she knows is there, she nuzzles my face, crunching the treat in my ear as if to say “thanks, that’s pretty tasty”
This mare is so special to me. Out of all the horses that have passed through my barn doors, she is one of the best. When I purchased her, I had just sold my Tennessee Walking Horse gelding that I had bought twelve years previously. I know you must be wondering how I could have sold a horse that I had owned for so long, but you have to understand, I had out grown him and he had become through time and effort well spent, a perfect childs mount. I wasn’t riding him anymore I couldn’t stand the thought of such a wonderful horse just sitting in the pasture for the rest of his life when he could be taking care of someone else and teaching them how to ride.
The family that has him now has a ten-year-old son that adores him. Ebony is a perfect gentleman and a super confidence builder for a timid rider. I couldn’t be happier with the new home for my guy. And after all, it is about the horse, isn’t it?
But I digress,
When I get out my grooming box and begin the task of cleaning up what I have become to believe is the origin of all the topsoil on the face of the earth, it doesn’t cross my mind that it’s a mess. However if this was my kitchen floor at the very least I would be peeved that I had to sweep it up. But when it comes to my mare I don’t care if she sheds enough dirt to plant a crop of corn. I know that the time I spend grooming her is time well spent. Not only can I see a job well done, I can see that she really enjoys it too. It makes all the bending and sweating and dirty clothes worth it.
I can smell her, I can feel her, and the furry winter hair is long and thick and soft to the touch. She stands so quietly and patiently, eyes half closed and one back foot resting on edge in the typical relaxed position that we all know so well.
It’s chilly this morning and I can see that the frost that clings to my mares long winter whiskers and eye lashes is beginning to melt and turn to tiny liquid diamonds as the fog rises from her silky nostrils to disappear into the air. As I run my gloveless hands over her legs and body checking for any bumps that shouldn’t be there I think about the ride today and make a plan to hopefully master that maneuver we have been trying to learn. It’s a simple shoulder in. I ride western now, nut my heart is firmly seated in dressage. I think all horses should have a basic understanding of simple dressage moves. They are th foundation of so many different disciplines.
The chill in the air is offset by the warmth that I feel when I hold my hands under her long mane for a few minutes.
As I saddle my mare and recheck all the fittings and various parts of my tack, I look for any faults in either my saddling skills or damages to the leather and stitching. It’s an unconscious thought process and it actually makes me smile to think that in the passage of time, this simple act has become second nature, an integral part of tacking up for every responsible horse person the whole world over. That is something else that you and I have in common.
I know that when I lead her from the barn out to the round pen for a few warm up laps, I will be having the best part of my day as soon as I get out to the trail or the arena.
I’m not a rich person, monetarily at least, but I know in my heart of hearts that no one is richer than I at this moment. And that makes it all worth it.
So.... Why do YOU love your horse?