About a year and a half ago, I rescued a small mare from a local kill pen. It was something I’d always wanted to do. I had this fantasy of the horse being so relieved to be safe and loved that it would become a willing partner.
I found a cute, small little palomino mare. We purchased her and arranged her to be transported home.
She was delivered to our home on a rainy, cold evening. We named the mare Hope. She was put in our riding arena to stretch her legs. It took us about an hour to catch her. She had a permanent hoof print in her side and an old scar on her side. She had shoes on her feet that were WAY overdue from to be removed. I still believed that with some time that she would settle down and be fine. We spent the winter grooming, feeding and giving her the right attention. She was wary, but I felt in time it would improve. I had plans on using her with my lesson program.
I found out when we started working on riding that there were more problems. She couldn’t relax under saddle. She didn't want to walk. When I asked her to move, she often shot forward and trotted like she was off to the races. She bit when putting her saddle on. She was very nervous under saddle. I asked a local trainer to evaluate her. It was determined that she needed a lot more time and she was not going to be usable for the summer. I spend most of my summer teaching her to calmly walk. Time passed and I was diagnosed with cancer in the winter. It meant that Hope’s training was put on hold. It is now about 1 and ½ years later since she came to live with us.
I have learned quite a bit from Hope. I learned that horses CAN have trauma just like people. A good definition of trauma is the response to a deeply distressing or disturbing event that overwhelms an individual’s ability to cope. I read some articles by Caroline Rider in which she talked about healing horses with trauma. I didn’t know what had happened to Hope, but I knew that just being in a kill pen and shuffled from sale barn to sale barn was hard on any horse. Her behaviors indicated to me that people had not always been kind to her. She reacted to us with the assumption that we were not a safe place.
When I compared her to my other horses, I was so thankful for the lives my horses had been given. My horses nickered and came to meet people. They didn’t flinch when arms were raised, or kids ran screaming through the barn. Hope, on the other hand, stood in the back of her stall. She rarely came to the gate, or stall door to meet us. She attached to another horse and became agitated whenever that mare wasn’t within eyesight. It made me sad to see that she didn’t see people as a good thing.
While I have not been able to put as much time in her as I would have wanted, I do think that the time with no demands has been good on her. Giving her time and space has helped her. I see a difference in her reaction to people. I see her coming to the window to get pats from the visiting kids. My oldest daughter is helping me put some good rides on her this summer. I see her relaxing under saddle. There is no biting when she is saddled. I see her showing interest in other horses and people.
I believe that while she can’t use the same coping skills as humans do, she can learn to overcome her past. Just like people with trauma, Hope needed time to trust and build confidence in the world around her. I remain ever “hopeful” that she will grow into the horse I see in her eyes. So when you come to the barn, bring cookies and take a minute to stop by her stall and give her the love she so deserves.
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