02/18/2023
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 heād 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 itās 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 didnāt know there were kinder ways.
I can only vow to do better with what Iām learning on my journey. Anyway, back to this man weāll call Joe, and his horse.
āItās the darnedest thing. I can do anything with him, rope and tie off on any cow. But no matter how many years Iāve known and ridden him, every single time I pick up a saddle blanket, itās as though heās never been touched by the human hand. Heās a stranger to me. We work through it, I think itās better and we go off and do our day job. The next time, youād never know it. Every single day is day one. Is he just quirky, or what?ā
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 horseās 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 āgoodā for Joe.
A few minutes later, we learned of the likely reason why.
āIāve seen this before,ā said the chiropractor. āCome and feel with the ends of your fingers underneath his coat, all along his back.ā We had to really concentrate and work our fingers as close to the horseās 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 ābehavioural issuesā 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 Joeās 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 Iāll go out to do chores and the whole herd is pulsating with fight or flight. Theyāll 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, weāll go our separate ways but every now and then, our worlds collide.
āWhat am I going to do with him, then?ā 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 didnāt mean he was a ābadā or stupid horse. Basically, Joe had only to honour this horseās story and say that he understood. He would simply stand and hold spaceāthat is, just waitāuntil 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 his story?
A few months later, I ran into Joe in town. āHowās your horse doing?ā I asked. āIs he any better to saddle, orā¦?ā Joe interrupted me with a smile.
āHe 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 weād be okay. I said that I wouldnāt school on him for being daft and by God, if he didnāt 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, heād go back to being jumpy but you know, itās amazing, what happens when they know that you know.ā
It's a powerful story of trust and rebuilding relationship that Iāve long thought Iād like to share with you. Horses or humans, we hold an incredible life force that allows us to rise againā¦ if only weāve been heard.
