Even the daftest horses aren’t tactless.
Equines don’t waste words. Even the smallest movements matter to them, and to anyone who wants to understand them. With horses, no ear flick, eye twitch, or tail swish is wasted. Even the way they hold their head when they watch you is crucial, as is the twisting of their neck, the drooping of their ears, and the stiffness in their back.
My mare has a particularly pertinent vexed glare (it's really one of her specialties), which is significantly different from her warning stance (the “back off before you do something else stupid and make me bite you!” look). Then, of course, there’s her expectant, often impatient queries -- each head-tilt of them unique. The way she twists around with pricked up ears when she’s curious about some sound behind her is different from how she twists around with pricked up ears when her face itches, and she requires an explanation as to why I am not yet and scratching it (truthfully, the delay is often because I am trying to pull sticks out of her tail).
If you didn’t know my mare (or how horses talk), you might think she’s dancing with glee when you put hay in her stall. She’s not dancing. She’s trying to tell you, the dumb human, to put the hay right there- no- yes right there, right where she’s pointing with her nose. Not in that corner, that’s where she sleeps. And in that corner she stands and watches the other horses run around in the ring. And along that wall is her toilet. You have to pay attention to what she’s trying to say; otherwise, you might toss a lovely, fresh meal onto a pile of manure without any care. Disgusting.
For heaven’s sake, quit your bumbling, fumbling, and stumbling. Quiet your body, quiet your mind, quiet your mouth, and just. listen.
(Then you can go back to you blabbering. I always do -- so long as I am with my friends.)
Believe me: your horses will appreciate you more if you take a few minutes each day to listen to them.
