Quote

A good quote leapt out at me while I was browsing in Barnes & Noble recently. It's from a little book by Germaine Greer in the Barnes & Noble "Brief Insight" series. Although I'd probably disagree with her about loads of things, I believe Germaine Greer is one of the smartest people around today.

Her book, which is a "brief insight" into Shakespeare, is an excellent book from any standpoint. But I particularly liked this quote, which I thought expressed what some of us have been trying to say about the insights gained from our horses.

It may not be possible to extract a nugget of thought, which we usually think of as a series of interrelated propositions, but part of the reason for that is that Shakespeare knew, as we have forgotten, that feeling is as intellectual as thinking. His is, as Eliot would argue, an intact nondissociative sensibility. (p. 180)

So there you have it - what I'm learning from my horses is an "intact nondissociative sensibility," which although feeling-based, rather than thinking-based, is nonetheless intellectual.

Merriam Webster defines "intellect" as "the capacity for knowledge." I think Greer is right to distinguish between a process of thinking which involves moving from one related proposition to another and the process, equally rational, of grasping the totality of an experience.

When Greer uses the word "feeling," I don't think she means "emotion" but something more like "sensing." When I think of sensing, it seems obvious that this is a bona fide way of perceiving truth - I can sense that it is cold, for example. It may, in fact, be the only way of perceiving the truth.

Ina May Gaskin, in her classic book Spiritual Midwifery, talks about the newborn infant's "original face." Mothers, on meeting their babies for the first time, have an instant, intuitive grasp of the personality of the child. I experienced this myself with each of my children - I received immediate, valuable, accurate, and detailed information about them in a manner which could not be described. The information was somehow sensed (although not by one of the five physical senses) and was, as Greer describes, "intact" and "nondissociative". Once I had the information in hand, I could put it into words, but the process of acquiring it was ineffable.

Post-Enlightenment, we seem to have gotten into a confused mindset whereby we believe that truth is accessible by developing propositions which theorize the nature of truth, based on hypotheses we have formed on the basis of other propositions based on previous hypotheses.

Logical thought, which pretends to serve the search for truth, runs amok and spews out meaningless propositions whose only claim to truth is that they are connected to other propositions. I believe the doctrine of the evolution of species is one such excrescence. Another is the belief that horses are robotic, soulless entities. In the quest for Reality, reality is not consulted.

As G.K. Chesterton wrote, "The madman is not the man who has lost his reason. The madman is the man who has lost everything except his reason." (Orthodoxy, Ch. 2)

p.s. We have snow today.

Chloe enjoys her breakfast.

Trust

George and the mares moved in together in June. Apart from the gas colic episode, it wasn't until November, when I found George snoozing with the mares standing nearby, that I saw any of the horses lying down.

More time passed, and it is only in recent days that I have regularly seen one or more of the horses lying down in the field. This has coincided with the advent of another new phase in George/mare diplomatic relations - they now can occasionally be seen actually touching one another in a non-hostile manner.

Today, I looked out and saw George and Rose resting companionably, a short distance away from each other. Later, George wandered up to Rose, and they had a peaceful interaction. His approach seemed rather shy and hesitant, but he looked happy.

Afterwards, I thought he looked rather goofy and pleased.

I think he must be glad that he finally has some friends, rather than merely companions to live with. He is definitely less anxious these days. His worry over the cold and over food has diminished. He's more subdued. He also may be rather bored, as I don't take him out much these days. (Cold weather and short days.)

It's taken about six months for George and the mares to build up enough mutual trust that they are comfortable touching each other and sleeping in each other's presence. It makes me realize how much patience we as humans should have in allowing horses time to develop trust in us - not presuming they'll be instantly comfortable with all the intrusive ministrations we expect them to routinely put up with.

p.s. Today Bridget was very keen on practicing her zipper technique. She seizes my zipper pull in her teeth and zips it up and down at a great rate. She also enjoyed giving me her foreleg, and playing with my gloves - pulling them off my hands and shaking them and rubbing them on the ground. I keep trying to get her to play moving games, but she won't. She's, like, "Nope, we're just going to stand right here and play." One of the dogs almost inveigled her into a chasing game today, but not quite. It took a long time before she'd run with me on the leadrope - maybe one of these days she'll agree to run with me at liberty.

Adversarial

Yesterday, my horse friend came over to help me trim Rose. She was cheerfully optimistic that good trimming will be able to correct Rose's dropped pasterns, aka coon-footedness.

It is always thought-provoking when my friend is here. As I have documented before, her approach to the horses is slightly different from mine.

We had Rose tied up at the fence inside the field. Bridget and George immediately left their piles of hay and came over to investigate what we were up to, trying to insert themselves in the middle of things.

My friend said that it was a dominance thing and that George was put out because we had taken "his" mare. I think George was saying the following:

a) this is where the action is, so I'd better be over here;
b) sometimes Rose lets me say hello when she has a halter and leadrope on - maybe she'll let me speak to her; and
c) but why do you have the halter on Rose anyway? You ought to put it on me - I'd like to draw your attention to some long grass over the fence there which looks like it might still be edible.

Bridget kept sneaking over and trying to interfere with Rose. When I wouldn't let her get into our bubble, she proceeded to charge around the field, looking very glamorous with her tail high. My friend said again it was a dominance thing and that Bridget was like a toddler having a tantrum. Whereas to my mind, she was just letting off steam because she got a little frustrated. After she'd had her fun, she walked over and stood quietly a couple of horse-lengths away.

When my friend wants a horse to get out of her space, she acts aggressive and drives them out. My approach is more to make contact with the horse and make my desires clear. My friend can make George and Bridget leave completely. For me, they will respect my desire to keep out of my bubble, but they'll keep hovering and looking at me, like "Are you sure? Can we talk about this some more maybe please?" My way is not as immediately effective a way of clearing the area, but it works for me, as I'm willing to wait for us all to learn and agree on behavioral etiquette - like waiting for George to cede the gate to allow the mares to enter.

When my friend spoke about George and Bridget, I found myself getting anxious, starting to feel that old emotion of fear, as if the horse were an adversary to be overcome. I had to remind myself: "No, this is Bridget - she is not trying to dominate me, I can trust her. And I don't need to dominate her either." Refusing to be a doormat is a very different thing from becoming a pair of boots.

And once again, I must remind everyone that my friend's horses are outgoing, confident, friendly, charming, and communicative. So what she is doing can't be bad. It works for her. I have to be willing to learn, but at the same time not be swayed from what experience tells me works for my horses and me.

New Theory

Ok, so I have a new hypothesis about why Bridget likes to gesture with her forelegs. She never seems to want anything in particular - she enjoys it when I pull on her leg, or scratch it, or hold it up, but none of these appear to be her goal.

Two things got me thinking.  One was that wee Islay of Ardtornish did exactly the same thing. And the other was an incident that happened a couple of days ago. I was out in the field, and Bridget came up.  I was happy to see her and gave her a big hug, followed by much vigorous rubbing of her head and neck. (So gratifying to have a horse who enjoys that kind of thing!) She responded by going into overdrive with her leg gestures - throwing her foreleg at me repeatedly with great gusto, matching the enthusiasm with which I'd greeted her.

So then it occurred to me:  they're doing this in imitation of a human using its hands.

That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

New Friends

The West Highlands of Scotland were lovely, the wedding perfect, the company delightful, the ceilidh thrilling, the food delicious, and the liquor plentiful.

One thing, however, was extra-special. Take a wild guess as to what that might be.

Meet Glen Bruar Fern, a Highland Pony mare, and her foal, Islay of Ardtornish.

While coming back from a long walk up the hill on Friday, my brother and I found a yard with ponies in it. The one I liked best was a two-year old Highland pony gelding named Corran. I thought he had a rather Sorraia/Tarpan tint to him. He greeted us very cordially.

His future is to be the estate's stalking pony, bringing the stags off the hill for the hunters (aka stalkers).

The next morning, I got up and went out in search of more ponies and found the aforementioned Fern and Islay in another field, sheltering in a horse trailer. Fern was busy eating hay in the back of the trailer, but Islay came right out to say hello. She was spectacularly muddy.

Islay is the full sister of Corran. The estate factor told me that Islay and her mother are to be sold together, and that there is a woman in Germany who is interested in buying them. I was glad that he wanted to keep them together.

Over the next three days, I spent more time with Fern, Islay, Corran, and the other ponies. Here is a large skewbald pony who I thought looked rather peevish, but who came over and greeted me kindly. Maybe she looked grumpy because her feet hurt.

There were seven ponies in the yard. They seemed very equal to each other in terms of pecking order, jostling each other out of the way in turn. The one pony who seemed to have a slight advantage was this white pony.

He/she greeted me and then took a little swipe at my nose. I tend to always trust horses when they stick their noses in my face. Maybe this one wasn't really going to bite.

This pony was shy.

The other ponies took turns coming over to say hello.

Little bay pony

Little dapple pony

Large dapple pony

But my favorite was still Corran. He has the same look as his sister - and the same sweet mischievous expression.

Corran (like his mother and sister) is pure Highland; the white pony looks to be Highland too, and maybe the large dapple pony. The others are a mix, I think.

Every morning I went out to visit Fern and Islay. As long as there was hay in the trailer, Fern kept munching and ignored me. But the last morning I went out before the hay arrived, and Fern came out to say hello. I scratched her neck, and every time I stopped, she turned round and gently touched my hand with her nose.

Islay reminded me of Bridget in her curiosity and desire to interact - especially when, to my surprise, she initiated the Bridget leg game, shoving a foreleg at me and happily letting me pull on it and scratch it. And of course she enjoyed backing into me to make me scratch her hindquarters and tail.

There is something about horses that makes you feel you're with an old friend, even if you've just met. 

OK, so I lied

Well, I said no more til I got back from my trip, but since the last entry, I discovered pictures of the horses on my non-horsey daughter's Facebook. She and a non-horsey friend went in to visit with the horses, taking their ever-present cameras to document the continuing saga of their lives as daily updated on FB.

I was struck by George's expression in the photos - he was clearly delighted to have these visitors and followed them around the field. Here is a sample:

The ever popular arial foot shot

I had to take time out from packing to post these. See you next week!

Nap Time

Over the extended holiday season,  the horses got used to being fed rather later than usual. However, after her excursion yesterday, Chloe was up by the fence, alone, staring at the house, early this morning when my daughter left for school. So of course I had to let her out.

The day started off very cold - 16F - but warmed up to a balmy 48F by the middle of the day. Wearing only a sweater, I went into the field to spend time.

Bridget indulged in her new thing, which is having me hold her foot up underneath her chest. She pushes her foot at me and then emphatically pulls it back, relaxing when her leg is safely tucked up beneath her. She'll stay in that position for several minutes.

She also enjoy having her leg stretched out and held securely between my knees.

Today, deciding that maybe she could do something with her hind legs too, she kept picking them up and poking them at me. She didn't enjoy having her hind leg stretched or held up, but she persisted in trying again - perhaps hoping for a more satisfactory experience.

George was lying down in some hay. Bridget and Rose dared to get quite close; he gave them peevish looks but didn't move.

Later on, when he was standing up, I really wanted to go and stand near him. Here was an example of when my feelings clearly did not coincide with his. Sometimes I feel like I'm a little kid wanting attention and a hug. I sidled up to him. Everything was ok up to about two feet away. But when I took the next step, it was as if he'd been given an electric shock. I stood back again. A little later he reached out and touched me gently with his nose. I moved in closer, and he was ok. But when I touched his neck, he pinned his ears. I stood nearby a little longer, and then went over to be with Chloe, who was lying down.

I sat down nearby, wondering if she'd mind if I got closer. She answered my question by reaching out toward me with her nose. I moved in close and scratched her, and we were comfortable.

When Bridget came over, I got up to deflect her so that Chloe would be left in peace.

While talking to Bridget, I  became aware of Rose being aware of me. A few moments later, I was standing near Chloe again, when Rose walked up to me and plonked herself down on the ground for a rest.

As she lay, she made the same little grunts and groans as the recumbent George and Chloe. She rested her nose on the ground and drifted into quite a deep sleep for a few minutes, twitching - REM sleep?

Bridget finally came snooping over in a mischievous mood, banishing Rose's peace and quiet. Rose made the meanest faces she was able but finally got up. She continued with the mean faces, but Bridget was, as usual, totally unimpressed. She doesn't even bother to get annoyed in return. Rose gets very cross when Bridget interrupts quality time she's having with a human being. I thought it was very sweet that she came and lay down next to me.

Tomorrow I'm off to Scotland for a niece's wedding. Unless my destination offers a) Internet and b) horses, this is it until I get back. I'm leaving a horsey daughter and non-horsey daughter in charge until my return - hopefully everyone will get along beautifully.