I've not had many dealings with stallions in my life, but I've come to know a few. As a teenager, I worked for several weeks with three (very dear) pony stallions. In the years between then and now an occasional stallion crossed my path, such as the affable Welsh Cob to whom I was introduced when he came to greet visitors in the pasture where he ran with his mares. As a hoof trimmer, although I haven't worked on any full-size stallions (there just aren't that many around), my clientele has included three donkey stallions and six miniature horse stallions.
There is something different about these guys. They have all been so ready to engage - more than other equines, they seem to embrace a spirit of rapport and rapprochement. They are easier to flatter - but also more flattering. ("Oh, you like me? That's great! I like you too!") All have been characterized by an eagerness to enter into the moment, by magnanimity, by playfulness, by unservile cooperativeness. When I'm with them, I feel as though I'm being welcomed onto a team.
I know we can't let all the colts turn into adult stallions. They can be harder to handle, and I've witnessed stallions who basically had turned into menaces from boredom and lack of attention. Uncontrolled breeding leads to neglect and unwanted horses, so housing stallions is a problem if there are any mares around. I accept that gelding is necessary. But I wonder if we haven't gotten rather complacent about this seemingly routine procedure, giving it the same perfunctory attention we might give to worming or vaccinations.
I don't want to try to sketch the characteristics of a gelding compared to a stallion; every horse is different anyway. But perhaps something more than fertility may be lost in the castration of the male horse, and I want to acknowledge that loss, even it it's unavoidable.
There's plenty of stuff in this world that maybe ain't wrong but somehow just ain't right.
(Now, when Moshiach comes ..... )
Showing posts with label miniature horses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miniature horses. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Tuning In
Today, I returned to the miniature stallions. Last time, the dominant one had been playful and curious and easy to work with. The other one, a stocky little brown guy, had struck at me with his teeth when I was working on his front feet. Today, I thought I'd pay better attention to the little brown stallion and see if we couldn't maybe elicit a better response without getting cross at him this time.
I realized that touching the foreleg is an invitation to rough play, as that's often where horses will nip at each other to get the fun started. As I went to pick up the forelegs of each little stallion, he turned to respond with a nip. However, the brown stallion's strike last time had not been of this nature - it was much more of a defensive "get lost" character. Perhaps he thought I was too big and scary to be playing with him.
Today I went slowly with the little brown guy, and this time, he didn't get cranky. Like his more dominant buddy, he started out by trying to nip. I said "uh uh" sternly. Then I remembered my resolution to be kinder and gentler and started just pushing his head away quietly. Then, somehow, we started engaging each other. Our interaction became interesting for both of us.
He began to understand that my touching his foreleg was not a prelude to play, but that I had another purpose. When I picked up his leg and he decided that pawing the ground would be a better activity for said leg, I encouraged him and put his foot up on my knee. I admired his leg and talked about it, and pointed out all the different parts of it. He was right there with me, inspecting his leg and nosing and nibbling at it. He became very cooperative. There was a bucket of treats up out of reach in the little pen we were in. Every now and then I'd take a break and go get him a treat. Once - and only once - he interrupted the proceedings himself to go over to the bucket and indicate that he would like one.
At the end, I taught him to shake hands, which took about 2 seconds.
The thing was - as I realized afterwards - we were both having fun. It was a nice day; I didn't have to be anywhere else for another two or three hours; the owners were pottering about in the background doing yard chores, not breathing down our necks or worrying about how much time it was taking. I wasn't focused on getting it done. I was focused on this little guy and who he was and what he was thinking - and on how charming and delightful he was. I think horses like that much better - if you're just trying to get the job done, then of course it probably feels a bit to them like you're treating them as an object - never mind that "it's for their own good." It's the same with the "crazy" mare at another barn - as long as I'm more interested in her than in her feet, everything goes just fine.
Later today, I was working on an apparently rather surly, bossy, uncooperative mare. I resisted the (every-present) temptation to establish dominance (although we did briefly play the Bored Game, which is nearly always helpful) and instead tried to be 100% responsive to all her concerns and complaints and to listen to everything she was trying to say. Mostly what she was worried about was her sore left stifle, and when I was "obedient" to all her requests, she freely offered a great deal of intelligent cooperation.
Having said all this, the other day I worked on a gelding who stood like a perfect statue when I worked on him, and I must say it was quite lovely to be able to mark his feet up and fuss with the details in peace and quiet, being a plain old trimmer for once, instead of counselor-therapist-teacher-psychologist as well!
I realized that touching the foreleg is an invitation to rough play, as that's often where horses will nip at each other to get the fun started. As I went to pick up the forelegs of each little stallion, he turned to respond with a nip. However, the brown stallion's strike last time had not been of this nature - it was much more of a defensive "get lost" character. Perhaps he thought I was too big and scary to be playing with him.
Today I went slowly with the little brown guy, and this time, he didn't get cranky. Like his more dominant buddy, he started out by trying to nip. I said "uh uh" sternly. Then I remembered my resolution to be kinder and gentler and started just pushing his head away quietly. Then, somehow, we started engaging each other. Our interaction became interesting for both of us.
He began to understand that my touching his foreleg was not a prelude to play, but that I had another purpose. When I picked up his leg and he decided that pawing the ground would be a better activity for said leg, I encouraged him and put his foot up on my knee. I admired his leg and talked about it, and pointed out all the different parts of it. He was right there with me, inspecting his leg and nosing and nibbling at it. He became very cooperative. There was a bucket of treats up out of reach in the little pen we were in. Every now and then I'd take a break and go get him a treat. Once - and only once - he interrupted the proceedings himself to go over to the bucket and indicate that he would like one.
At the end, I taught him to shake hands, which took about 2 seconds.
The thing was - as I realized afterwards - we were both having fun. It was a nice day; I didn't have to be anywhere else for another two or three hours; the owners were pottering about in the background doing yard chores, not breathing down our necks or worrying about how much time it was taking. I wasn't focused on getting it done. I was focused on this little guy and who he was and what he was thinking - and on how charming and delightful he was. I think horses like that much better - if you're just trying to get the job done, then of course it probably feels a bit to them like you're treating them as an object - never mind that "it's for their own good." It's the same with the "crazy" mare at another barn - as long as I'm more interested in her than in her feet, everything goes just fine.
Later today, I was working on an apparently rather surly, bossy, uncooperative mare. I resisted the (every-present) temptation to establish dominance (although we did briefly play the Bored Game, which is nearly always helpful) and instead tried to be 100% responsive to all her concerns and complaints and to listen to everything she was trying to say. Mostly what she was worried about was her sore left stifle, and when I was "obedient" to all her requests, she freely offered a great deal of intelligent cooperation.
Having said all this, the other day I worked on a gelding who stood like a perfect statue when I worked on him, and I must say it was quite lovely to be able to mark his feet up and fuss with the details in peace and quiet, being a plain old trimmer for once, instead of counselor-therapist-teacher-psychologist as well!
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Two Miniature Stallions
I was warned that the two little horses were not very good about getting their hoofs done. Often when people say this, it turns out fine, and sometimes when things don't go well, they say, "He's never acted like this before!" So the best thing to do is to go in with an open mind.
The first little guy was the more dominant stallion. He was cute as a button and listened attentively, peeking at me with impish eyes from beneath his huge Thelwell shock of forelock. He assayed a couple of playful nips, and when I put his forefoot up in front of him on the pillar, he thought this was a handy aid for standing up on his hind legs. In both cases, all I had to do was to say, "Silly boy, we're not playing that game right now!" and he cheerfully altered his behavior.
His cousin, best buddy, and pasture mate behaved differently. He had that slightly Eeyore-ish demeanor of the lower-ranking horse. As I worked on him, he struck at me a couple of times with his mouth, in a manner nothing like his cousin's playful nips. He didn't actually bite, and I don't think even opened his mouth. It reminded me of when Rose tries to convince Bridget that she's going to bite her - she puts on the most intensely peevish face she can muster and snakes her head at Bridget. Bridget is never impressed and either ignores Rose or backs into her in a very bossy-boots kind of way. I spoke sharply when the little stallion struck at me. I probably didn't need to, and perhaps should have dealt with it in a different way, but it felt like the most directly aggressive gesture that any horse I've worked with has ever made. Just like his cousin, the little guy settled down and let me work peacefully. Next time I'll try to connect with him a little better before I start working. I probably invaded his space a bit too forcefully. But I'll also be more vigilant, as I do not want to receive a bite, mini or otherwise!
These two little horses, like many of their kind, are - for the most part - inquisitive, engaging, confident, comical, affectionate, endearing. I wonder if all these positive characteristics are evidence of the way minis are treated. Their diminutive stature makes them so unthreatening that people don't shut them down or react to them with fear. It's not that they don't teach them manners or that they let them get away with murder, but rather that they correct them the way you would your child - gently. When the first little Mr. Stud wanted to nip and rear, my equanimity was not at all disturbed, and I could remain unruffled and friendly while asking him to stop. I was told that when the horse was younger, if his owner turned his back, the horse would try to mount him. The owner would then calmly turn around to face him and hold onto his front feet for a while, which was tiresome for the horse, and so he gave up the bad habit. If a 16:2 hh horse did that, the human's stress and fear levels would almost certainly shoot up, causing them to react unpleasantly. So while the large horse learns to be more constrained and reserved, the minis' exuberance is not dampened in this way.
We just have to figure out how to allow our full-size horses to express themselves freely, without causing us GBH in the process!
The first little guy was the more dominant stallion. He was cute as a button and listened attentively, peeking at me with impish eyes from beneath his huge Thelwell shock of forelock. He assayed a couple of playful nips, and when I put his forefoot up in front of him on the pillar, he thought this was a handy aid for standing up on his hind legs. In both cases, all I had to do was to say, "Silly boy, we're not playing that game right now!" and he cheerfully altered his behavior.
His cousin, best buddy, and pasture mate behaved differently. He had that slightly Eeyore-ish demeanor of the lower-ranking horse. As I worked on him, he struck at me a couple of times with his mouth, in a manner nothing like his cousin's playful nips. He didn't actually bite, and I don't think even opened his mouth. It reminded me of when Rose tries to convince Bridget that she's going to bite her - she puts on the most intensely peevish face she can muster and snakes her head at Bridget. Bridget is never impressed and either ignores Rose or backs into her in a very bossy-boots kind of way. I spoke sharply when the little stallion struck at me. I probably didn't need to, and perhaps should have dealt with it in a different way, but it felt like the most directly aggressive gesture that any horse I've worked with has ever made. Just like his cousin, the little guy settled down and let me work peacefully. Next time I'll try to connect with him a little better before I start working. I probably invaded his space a bit too forcefully. But I'll also be more vigilant, as I do not want to receive a bite, mini or otherwise!
These two little horses, like many of their kind, are - for the most part - inquisitive, engaging, confident, comical, affectionate, endearing. I wonder if all these positive characteristics are evidence of the way minis are treated. Their diminutive stature makes them so unthreatening that people don't shut them down or react to them with fear. It's not that they don't teach them manners or that they let them get away with murder, but rather that they correct them the way you would your child - gently. When the first little Mr. Stud wanted to nip and rear, my equanimity was not at all disturbed, and I could remain unruffled and friendly while asking him to stop. I was told that when the horse was younger, if his owner turned his back, the horse would try to mount him. The owner would then calmly turn around to face him and hold onto his front feet for a while, which was tiresome for the horse, and so he gave up the bad habit. If a 16:2 hh horse did that, the human's stress and fear levels would almost certainly shoot up, causing them to react unpleasantly. So while the large horse learns to be more constrained and reserved, the minis' exuberance is not dampened in this way.
We just have to figure out how to allow our full-size horses to express themselves freely, without causing us GBH in the process!
Friday, July 13, 2012
Respecting No
I was very glad I answered the call to travel over an hour to trim one little miniature horse. Of course, I'm always glad to meet a new horse and new people and see new places. But the main reason I was happy? ..... Miniature cows!
Who knew that such creatures existed? I knew there were smaller, heritage type breeds, such as the Belted Galloway. But bona fide miniature cows? Never knew about them. The owner had a four year old Western Heritage miniature cow, about to calve. She was about the height of a Shetland pony, although much longer and stockier looking, and possessed of a pair of magnificent horns. The other mini cow was an adorable Jersey yearling heifer, whom I thought at first was a spring calf from this year. The owner said she would probably only grow a couple more inches in height.
It was fascinating to talk to this woman, as she has experience riding cows, and teaching them tricks. She plans to teach her Jersey calf - who already knows how to bow - to pull a cart. She said she finds cows easier to work with than horses, and quicker to learn.
The miniature horse was a pretty dark brown mare, four years old, who had been sold away for a while and then returned. The owner told me she often looked grumpy but was in fact a sweetheart.
She was pretty good about her front feet, but when I went to do the hinds, she started kicking. The owner was surprised at her behavior and said she'd never acted like this before. My first thought was to hold on and make her put her feet down politely, on my terms. But then it came out that this was her first trim since returning home. Looked like probably the farrier at the other place had given her a bad experience with her hind legs. The owner said the little mare had never been one to tolerate rough handling and that another farrier in the past had caused her to be temporarily difficult about trimming.
So, rather than insisting on anything, I set her feet down immediately if she wanted, even if she was "rude" and kicked or snatched. Within a few minutes, she became cooperative, allowing me to handle her hind feet without any fuss. A very intelligent, well-intentioned little horse, but with a zero tolerance policy for bad manners!
Look - seven years old, and this bull is only waist-high .....
Full grown cows ....
My daughter-whose-favorite-animal-is-the-cow happened to accompany me on this trimming expedition. So now guess what she wants for her next birthday.
Who knew that such creatures existed? I knew there were smaller, heritage type breeds, such as the Belted Galloway. But bona fide miniature cows? Never knew about them. The owner had a four year old Western Heritage miniature cow, about to calve. She was about the height of a Shetland pony, although much longer and stockier looking, and possessed of a pair of magnificent horns. The other mini cow was an adorable Jersey yearling heifer, whom I thought at first was a spring calf from this year. The owner said she would probably only grow a couple more inches in height.
It was fascinating to talk to this woman, as she has experience riding cows, and teaching them tricks. She plans to teach her Jersey calf - who already knows how to bow - to pull a cart. She said she finds cows easier to work with than horses, and quicker to learn.
The miniature horse was a pretty dark brown mare, four years old, who had been sold away for a while and then returned. The owner told me she often looked grumpy but was in fact a sweetheart.
She was pretty good about her front feet, but when I went to do the hinds, she started kicking. The owner was surprised at her behavior and said she'd never acted like this before. My first thought was to hold on and make her put her feet down politely, on my terms. But then it came out that this was her first trim since returning home. Looked like probably the farrier at the other place had given her a bad experience with her hind legs. The owner said the little mare had never been one to tolerate rough handling and that another farrier in the past had caused her to be temporarily difficult about trimming.
So, rather than insisting on anything, I set her feet down immediately if she wanted, even if she was "rude" and kicked or snatched. Within a few minutes, she became cooperative, allowing me to handle her hind feet without any fuss. A very intelligent, well-intentioned little horse, but with a zero tolerance policy for bad manners!
Look - seven years old, and this bull is only waist-high .....
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| From the International Miniature Zebu Association website |
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| http://www.rgbexotics.com/SaleBarn.htm |
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Wee Stormy
One of my mini horse clients, who is also a neighbor and friend, has a new addition to her little family - five-month old Stormy, full brother to one of her other minis. The breeder gave away this youngster, hoping just to find a good home for him, and a good home he has certainly found.
I met Stormy for the first time last week, when I took the foreign exchange student and my daughter over to visit, and then went back a few days later to see about trimming his hoofs - they're looking decidedly duck-billish. But on arrival, it transpired that this was only Stormy's second time ever wearing a halter (the first time being when he was moved), and he didn't think too much of the idea. In fact soon after the rope was put on, he flung himself backwards and ended up flipping over onto the ground. As he is a smart little guy, as well as spirited and stubborn, he did not repeat this.
I trimmed the other two for the first time at his age, but they were more accustomed to human handling. Stormy didn't want me even touching his legs, never mind picking them up, so rather than work on trimming, we worked on being-with-the-humans-while-the-rest-of-the-herd-is-out-of-sight, and leading.
Initially, rather than trying to convince him to be lead by me, I let him lead me for a while. I kept hold of the rope and followed him. You could see him thinking, "Wait a minute, that's not what I meant - I meant to get away from her, not have her come along too." But, hey, connected is connected, no matter who's got the lead.
After a while, he began to get the idea, and we even managed some semblance of "leading." The owner and I also practiced sitting with him beside the mini barn (oh, so cute!). He settled down and started grooming me a little, so I guess he's on his way. He even started letting me scratch his legs, and a few times when I touched his leg, he picked it up in a reflex kind of a way, whereupon I got enthusiastic and praised him a lot. He must be all, like, "What is up with the weird lady?" Here's where a clicker and treats might work wonders.
We decided to shelve trimming for another day. I think Stormy definitely experienced being with humans in a new way that wasn't so bad after all; hopefully he'll mull it over and be ready to let me have his feet the next time or the next.
p.s. These little horses are very intelligent. Their owner tells me that they enjoy playing the game "Put the Ball in the Bucket," which they figured out all by themselves.
I met Stormy for the first time last week, when I took the foreign exchange student and my daughter over to visit, and then went back a few days later to see about trimming his hoofs - they're looking decidedly duck-billish. But on arrival, it transpired that this was only Stormy's second time ever wearing a halter (the first time being when he was moved), and he didn't think too much of the idea. In fact soon after the rope was put on, he flung himself backwards and ended up flipping over onto the ground. As he is a smart little guy, as well as spirited and stubborn, he did not repeat this.
I trimmed the other two for the first time at his age, but they were more accustomed to human handling. Stormy didn't want me even touching his legs, never mind picking them up, so rather than work on trimming, we worked on being-with-the-humans-while-the-rest-of-the-herd-is-out-of-sight, and leading.
Initially, rather than trying to convince him to be lead by me, I let him lead me for a while. I kept hold of the rope and followed him. You could see him thinking, "Wait a minute, that's not what I meant - I meant to get away from her, not have her come along too." But, hey, connected is connected, no matter who's got the lead.
After a while, he began to get the idea, and we even managed some semblance of "leading." The owner and I also practiced sitting with him beside the mini barn (oh, so cute!). He settled down and started grooming me a little, so I guess he's on his way. He even started letting me scratch his legs, and a few times when I touched his leg, he picked it up in a reflex kind of a way, whereupon I got enthusiastic and praised him a lot. He must be all, like, "What is up with the weird lady?" Here's where a clicker and treats might work wonders.
We decided to shelve trimming for another day. I think Stormy definitely experienced being with humans in a new way that wasn't so bad after all; hopefully he'll mull it over and be ready to let me have his feet the next time or the next.
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| Little Stormy on the right. |
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| Playing that perennially favorite game - "Follow the Lithuanian." (You can just see that Stormy's dorsal stripe goes right down his tail.) |
p.s. These little horses are very intelligent. Their owner tells me that they enjoy playing the game "Put the Ball in the Bucket," which they figured out all by themselves.
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