Posted on 11/06/2005 3:33:39 PM PST by linkinpunk
The Times November 04, 2005
People love horses. the payback is that they will break your bones, your bank and your heart
By Simon Barnes
WHEN you enter the horsey life, you make a pact. Like a pact with the devil, but different. A pact with the angels, if you like. The deal is that you will find incomparable joy in the beauty and the wildness of the life. The payback is that horses will break your bones, your bank and your heart. This is a deal that people accept willingly, avidly. And with the shockingly public death of the great champion, Best Mate, this week, it is worth reflecting on the way the pact works.
The horse is a genius. A genius of evolution. Across the world, wild equids are under threat: the African and the Asian wild ass, the Grevy’s and the mountain zebra, Przewalski’s wild horse. But Equus caballus played a card that these other horsey creatures did not. They acquired an affinity for humans. They adopted the difficult and dangerous strategy of domestication.
Humans and horses established a relationship of mutual exploitation. Horses were domesticated for meat, for transport, for warfare, in ways that ranged from violation to worship. Either way, at least in survival terms, it worked for the horses. They got fed, sheltered, watered, protected. They bred, increased, thrived. It worked for countless millenniums.
Then came the tricky bit in the early part of the last century. Transport and warfare were mechanised and horses were no longer needed for purely practical tasks. But once again, horses performed an extraordinary evolutionary shift. They showed that if they were not needed for practical tasks, they could still fulfil a human need. Modern humans do not need horses for anything but pleasure and the horses have adapted and now give pleasure without stinting. Joy, quite literally, is the reason for the horse’s continued existence.
It is a strange business, and death and sadness are an inextricable part of it. That is because the whole business is based around love; and love is the greatest risk in the world. To love is to accept that loss will give you the deepest pain imaginable. Love, then, is also a pact.
To love an animal that has a shorter lifespan than your own is to make the possibility of loss a near certainty. Some scoffed yesterday that the fuss about Best Mate was over the top: only an animal, only a horse. This is to take an unrealistic view of love. People love their dogs, their cats, their horses. Love is not something we give only to humans. To lose a loved one cannot fail to bring grief. This is not to say that dogs and cats and horses are human, only that love is love.
There is a difference, one not always noted, between sentiment and sentimentality. But there is an important difference between horses and dogs, cats, hamsters and goldfish. The horse is the pet that can kill. This puts the relationship on an altogether different footing. I’ve had a couple of injuries this year, one from a fall, one from a kick. It happens.
It’s dangerous. It’s supposed to be dangerous. All the fussy procedure you find in the horsey world, particularly from such organisations as the British Horse Society, is designed to help you to deal with an inherently dangerous situation as safely as possible. That doesn’t make it safe: well, would we bother to do it if it was safe?
Every domestic animal has been selectively bred for docility. Except the horse. With the horse, the wildness has never been bred out. You can take the horse out of the wilderness, but — as a matter of deliberate policy — you do not attempt to take the wilderness out of the horse. You want a horse that runs and jumps, and these are wild matters.
Speed comes from the way a wild horse lives, the way a domestic horse still thinks. A horse will fly from danger and stick with the herd, and the top dog will want to be in front. Flat racing is a sport based on Darwinian principles: only the best get to breed, only the best get to become ancestors.
The enormous human response to horses and, by extension, to horsey sports, goes back to the nostalgia for wildness. I have spent extended periods in the Luangwa Valley in Zambia and friends often ask if I miss the life in the bush. I tell them that, at home, I have wildness all around me; and I find it in the hearts and the minds of my horses.
Life in the bush is hard and beautiful and uncompromising. The bush teems with life and therefore it also teems with death. In the bush, these matters are brought into sharp focus. The buffalo go down to drink and the lions are waiting. That is the way it is, and good.
The horsey life brings you something of the same clarity. Life is not something you take utterly for granted; death is not something you can avoid thinking about. Horses die. So do the people who choose to live around them. In one terrible year of 1999, five riders were killed in the sport of eventing.
A few weeks ago, my young horse understood for the first time that it was acceptable to gallop with a rider on her back. She put her head between her knees to express her delight at this and bucked and bucked, and I managed not only to stay on board but also to encourage her onward, so that she forgot about bucking and found as much joy in the gallop as I did.
But it is not the peak experiences that keep us involved in the horsey life. The point about Best Mate was not just that he won the Gold Cup three times. There is also a long story about foaling and nurture and daily involvement; a long story about his trainer’s attempt to understand that wild mind.
The horsey life is an unending journey to the limits of the human mind. It is an attempt to understand, not an alien culture or an alien religion or an alien race, but an alien species. The extraordinary and thrilling affinity between the radically different minds of humans and horses has rewarded both humans and horses for thousands of years.
Even in the 21st century, we turn to horses. No, let me rephrase that. Especially in the 21st century, we turn to horses. Our world is too tame, too comfortable, and our children grow up in shopping malls with childhoods circumscribed by paedophilia-phobia and the laws on health and safety. We are becoming a species cut off from all others, and it doesn’t feel good.
But when we associate with horses, we claim back something of our lost wildness, our lost wilderness. With horses, we are back in touch with our fellow animals. With horses, we become more truly human. The more we concrete over the world, the more horses such as Best Mate mean to people.
I don't know if you're right or wrong... the one that stepped on my foot FELT like it weighed 2000 pounds.... hahahahahaha.
I prefer to ride my ATV.
lol
This summer I had a 750 pound Arab step (stomp) on my foot. And yes, it felt like a ton.
LOL...well in that case you are right they do feel like 2000 pounds when they step on you:)
I've got an average size Quarter gelding. He's about 1100. My stud horse is on the small size he's about 950.
Becky
"But I have met plenty of stupid people who got themselves hurt because they did stupid things around horses."
99 times out of 100, if someone is hurt around a horse, it's because of something they did to cause it. It's easy to get complacent around a gentle horse you've had for years, doing things that you wouldn't do with a horse you don't know. Most of the accidents I've seen met that criteria.
I absolutely do not agree with the poster that said QH are inbred and nutty. I don't think you can say that about any breed as a whole. There are bad horses in all breeds.
"I don't know if you're right or wrong... "
He's right, do a google search. Only the extremely large draft horses will get anywhere near 2000 pounds. I have a very large paint, he looks like a draft horse without the big head and feet, and he only weighs approximately 1400 pounds, give or take.
I was referring specifically to tasks horses are taught to do by man and not their instinctual behavior. Roping, barrel racing and cutting horses have to be trained constantly or they forget. That's why I called them stupid.
"Roping, barrel racing and cutting horses have to be trained constantly or they forget. That's why I called them stupid."
I've had horses for 35 plus years and have never run across this happening. Once a horse learns something, I've never seen one forget it. You have to practice different sports to stay in shape or to get better, not to refresh their memory.
And my only difference is a bit more soft and a small difference of semantics. My horses are pets... I'm committed to them for their life and committed to keeping them well tended and treated as a pet. My pets have to behave is all, horses, dogs, you name it :~D
I've owned horses and I've owned mountain bikes. I've never had a mountain bike that stepped on my foot and then farted in my face in order to muffle out the screams...
I've had my foot stepped on a time or 2 but it was never by a foot that was close to the farting end.
I think any animal you name is transfered from the "what's for dinner" to the "pet" list. You just have to treat them differently. I roll the dog on her back and scratch her belly but the darn cat would bite me and the horse might kick me.
Mountain bike, as in motorized? If so, I've had several motorcycles that were used for off road. I had one come over and trap me mometarily. Long enough to burn my leg. That hurt for days, not near as bad as any time cattle or horses have stepped on my feet.
More than once, I had the 2-cycle 'eat' the spark plug and have to walk.
As far as the talk by some about the intelligence of horses: They are smart enough. Hogs are too smart.
But once they learn something, they don't forget it, ever. A grade horse that I trained for some friends was about as stupid a horse as I've ever run across and it was really hard to get an idea into his head. But once he had it, it was there for good.
This can be a problem . . . some idiots at the barn let a 55 gal drum fall off the tailgate of a pickup truck and it rolled down a fairly steep slope right in front of my mare. It was partially full of water, so it sloshed and made odd noises as it bounced down the hill. My mare was so frightened that she locked her knees and stood and trembled and stared at it. Now whenever she sees a 55 gal drum (at least the black plastic kind) she snorts and gives it the big eye waiting for it to start bouncing and sloshing. She does jump them when I tell her too (but she gives it an extra 6 inches just in case it starts bouncing while she's in the air over it.)
And the incident with the pickup happened back in 1999 . . .
She also doesn't forget her dressage or her cross country jumping, even though we don't get out on a "real" cross country course on a regular basis.
It's the same with horses as it is with all other livestock - ALWAYS KNOW WHERE THE BACK LEGS ARE!!!
Also a horse will instinctively try to avoid stepping on a rider that is being thrown forward and down, as the animal doesn't want to be tripped by the once rider-now obstacle.
The rider instinctively hangs on to the neck (when thrown forward) to keep from falling and getting run over. The horse usually slows down during these moments.
While hanging on is the best way to keep a bike from clobbering you, sometimes that just isn't possible. A riderless bike doesn't have the brains to stay upright, and avoid the down rider. Hill climbs are a good event to witness the rider that knows how to hold on to the bike AND not let it fall on top. I saw a rider let a bike go, he didn't get out of the way and the machine bounced on him on it's way down the hill. He was hospitalized.
As I tell my Cousins and their offspring, who are into roping, barrel racing, trail rides, etc. the only thing stupider than a horse is somebody, who would own one.
I was told that horses are stupid, but that mules are smart. A horse can be led into danger, but a mule will balk.
My horse farts in your general direction.
:')
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