02/19/2023
Your Energetic Space is Greater than You Think ♥️
It was during a visit to my equine chiropractor, when a cowboy from a nearby ranch pulled into her yard with his loaded trailer.
We chatted amicably for a while about the price of hay, yearlings and all the ice underfoot. He then said that I might want to stick around, to observe one of his ranch horses that he’d brought in for treatment. I am in such admiration for those crusty old souls who are now realizing that their trusted partners, these horses who help earn their living and keep them safe, are deserving of body work and all the care in the world.
You know, before it’s too late.
Uncomfortable memory reminds me that in our family, it was not always this way. Too many excellent working horses went to their early graves without ever having had a saddle fitting, a chiropractic work up, a deworming, or a dental visit. Yes, that shadow reaches across my memories, though forty, fifty years ago and more, we just didn’t know there were kinder ways.
I can only vow to do better with what I’m learning on my journey. Anyway, back to this man we’ll call Joe, and his horse.
“It’s the darnedest thing. I can do anything with him, rope and tie off on any cow. But no matter how many years I’ve known and ridden him, every single time I pick up a saddle blanket, it’s as though he’s never been touched by the human hand. He’s a stranger to me. We work through it, I think it’s better and we go off and do our day job. The next time, you’d never know it. Every single day is day one. Is he just quirky, or what?”
Well, that perked my interest and after seeing to my own horses, I followed Joe and his Quarter Horse into the barn.
This was a solid and proud middle-aged gelding. Brave, wise, high-mileage, he gave absolutely no clue as to what his owner had just told us. He was obviously well-handled and trusted his man implicitly. There was no outward evidence of poor saddle fit. There was no sign of trouble at all, really, until the chiropractor reached up to put a little cloth on the horse’s back for some routine massage.
Suddenly, the doe-eyed gelding threw his head in the air and all four feet left the ground. No matter how much he was allowed to see and sniff the little blanket, he would not allow it onto his back. Watching, I could see that the horse was not afraid of the object. No, he was afraid of allowing anything to touch him from above. Worse, somehow, was seeing his shame and upset at not being able to be ‘good’ for Joe.
A few minutes later, we learned of the likely reason why.
“I’ve seen this before,” said the chiropractor. “Come and feel with the ends of your fingers underneath his coat, all along his back.” We had to really concentrate and work our fingers as close to the horse’s skin as we could and then, the answer was revealed.
There were ridges, about three or four inches apart, scarring this horse all the way from mid-neck, to his loins. Over and over again, we could feel something like faint claw marks in parallel lines, running from front to back.
Cougars, or mountain lions, are plentiful along the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, the place where so many ranch horses run out and call home. The chiropractor, who specializes in these hard-working horses, has seen a surprising number with similar ‘behavioural issues’ and tracks along their backs. She went so far as to surmise that this is why the northwest part of the continent is known for producing these 'broncy' horses. That whether or not the attack was first hand experience, as Joe’s horse had survived, this fear of predatory cats is now built in to their very DNA.
We have owned a few such horses, looking back. Even now, there will be mornings I’ll go out to do chores and the whole herd is pulsating with fight or flight. They’ll almost run to stand on top of me, the air is so electric. Big cats are a fact of life here, living as we do in these hills along quiet, tree-lined creeks. Most times, we’ll go our separate ways but every now and then, our worlds collide.
“What am I going to do with him, then?” asked Joe. A practical man, he just wanted to know if this could be worked around, or if his partner was always going to have to relive this trauma upon every saddling. He was advised to simply let the horse know that he was understood, that this had been a bad thing to happen but that it didn’t mean he was a ‘bad’ or stupid horse. Basically, Joe had only to honour this horse’s story and say that he understood. He would simply stand and hold space—that is, just wait—until the horse was ready.
The older cowboy and I exchanged glances, for that seemed altogether too woo-woo. How could a lifelong quirk be made better by simply telling a horse that you believed him?
A few months later, I ran into Joe in town. “How’s your horse doing?” I asked. “Is he any better to saddle, or…?” Joe interrupted me with a smile.
“He was wide-eyed and worried when I went to ride him next time. So, I figured, what the hell? I told him I knew that a lion had tried to get him but that we’d be okay. I said that I wouldn’t school on him for being daft and by God, if he didn’t put his head down and just let go a huge sigh. I did the same thing and then, we saddled up and went to work. I think if someone else tried, he’d go back to being jumpy but you know, it’s amazing, what happens when they know that you know.”
It's a powerful story of trust and rebuilding relationship that I’ve long thought I’d like to share with you. Horses or humans, we hold an incredible life force that allows us to rise again… if only we’ve been heard.
