The Horse, A Nervous Child

               

     We have all manner of veterinarians that come to the farm.  We have two farm vets who come for the camelids.  They take care of farm animals, but they limit their practice, and therefore do not care for dogs or cats.  The dogs or cats, and rabbits see a small animal vet group about twenty or so miles from here.  We have a large equine veterinarian group which travels a great distance to see our horses. (They even take care of racehorses and have a full surgical suite for horses at their offices and stables.) We have them because they will even come out on a Sunday evening, if you ask, because I have had them do so when some eyelid suturing with sedation was needed.  Usually, one gravitates to a particular partner in a veterinary practice, but all of the vets in this large group are kind, helpful, and very willing to teach owners like me.  All of them are also very bright and very observant.  I often think that if it weren't illegal, I wouldn't mind having them take care of me. (Especially since it would likely be cheaper than my own physicians.)
                    When we got the first two horses, it had been a long time since I had been around horses.  I wanted to please them, and to convey to them that I could be trusted and that I am their friend. This meant that I was  congenial cooperative where they were concerned, and actually sometimes gave them choices.  One of the equine vets said something which has helped me a great deal with the horses.   He told me that I should treat them like children.  I should not give them too many choices, and that I should give them the gift of being in charge. This freed me to make decisions and to actually lead them rather than see if they are willing to go in the direction I need them to.  This was especially important information when the two most recent horses joined us.  They very much needed structure and a regular routine.
                   One of the surprises of horses, that I had long since forgotten since childhood, is how intelligent they are.  They learn and they reason.   Their lips can be about as dextrous as fingers, which is how the bolt from the stall keeps getting opened.  I have had to add a supplemental lock so a particular one stops flipping and sliding the bolt.  They also are capable of emotion.  One day when one of them let all of the others out, I chased them around to put them back for a couple of hours.  When the 92 degree humid heat made it impossible for me to continue, I went into the barn and sat down there.   They realized I couldn't catch them, and they each returned to the stalls, their day of broad exploration over.  They are bright children with a bit of a nervous brain.
                 Today, despite a twisted knee, I rotated ponies to new grazing fields, mucked pens, cleaned out mop buckets, and restocked hay, grain, and supplies.  They stopped periodically to watch me, as if to say, "Mom, you work too hard."