Relationships

I have heard many horse people speak about the "relationship" they have with their horse,  They want to find ways to improve it and they study, read and take clinics with experienced horse trainers.  What strikes me is how we never talk about the relationship we have with our dog or ,heaven forbid, the relationship we have with our cat!  Why is this?  Could it be that we live with the smaller animals in our lives?  They sleep in our beds and ride with us in our cars.  They sit near us at the dinner table and perhaps get small tidbits of food we share from our plates.  They accompany us on walks or runs and we engage with them in play.  Do we interact in any of these ways with our horses?  We relate to our smaller animals in a completely different way; as if they are part of our family and are companions, confidants, and playmates.  (Even warm bedfellows!)  We don't even consider the need for working on the relationship we have with them because we are relating to them all the time.  How could we translate this to our connection with our horses?  Granted, they are too big to come in the house.   But what if we just spent time with them in similar ways?  We could sit and read a book with them nearby.  We could  create a game to capture their interest.  We could simply take them for a grazing walk instead of being in a hurry to ride.  I wonder how it would change the relationship with our horses if we considered them to be companions like the other animals in our lives!  

Change

     Today I worked with some older horses at a therapeutic riding center.  One of the horses was retired, had a sagging back and dragged the toes of her hind feet as she walked.  She seemed a likely candidate for the gentle bodywork I offer.  I have found that subtle, non- invasive craniosacral work can help boost the vitality of older animals.  I assumed she would be the most receptive of all the horses I had worked with, considering her age and state of decline.  I went into her paddock quietly and approached her with a halter in my hand.  She moved away from me at first until I made it clear that my intention was not to ask anything of her. I put the halter aside and greeted her with my outstretched hand.  She sniffed it and let me put my hands on her back. My hands started to get warm and it seemed this area of her body could use the attention, but to my surprise she walked away.  I stepped back, taking my hands off and watching as she stopped a few feet away and turned to look at me.  I approached again and put my hands on her sacrum, again feeling the warmth, but finding that she walked away again after just a few seconds.  I started to get impressions of her on an emotional level as being secure in her routine and not wanting anything in her world to change.  This included any new sensations in her body that might require her to adjust the way she had learned to compensate.  For her it was more important to maintain a sense of security around what she knew about herself and her body.  I have to respect that as sentient beings, animals have a right to say no to something, but I had never thought about an animal not being receptive to change, especially when it could offer comfort or relief.  How many of us have the same attitude and end up dragging ourselves through life?